The Journal: Raging Tide: (The Journal Book 4) (27 page)

I piled some of my clothes in the back of
the Subaru and went home. Rayn and I had gone over what I had, and
she kept some of the items that fit her and that would be wearable
as she continued to get bigger, like t-shirts and no-waist style
dresses. We also arranged a day for me to take her “shopping” at
the supply store.

As I drove past the offices I noticed the
Hummer was gone. Hoping to find Jim at home so I could get my
bicycle, I went straight there.

“I hope you don’t mind I borrowed the Hummer
for a few minutes,” I said to Jim when I found him in the big barn,
tinkering with my bike.

“Not at all,” he replied. “Nice bike, and it
looks new.”

“I got it a year before the first quake and
just haven’t had a reason to use it. I think it will be a great way
to get around town.”

“I wish we had a half dozen of these for the
security team. I don’t like having to put them on foot, but we need
to start conserving gas.” He filled and tested the tires.

“Are we getting low on fuel already?” This
was a concern Tom and I knew would happen, though I didn’t expect
it so soon.

“Not really, but the sooner we start
rationing the longer supplies will last.”

“Maybe we should put the word out we need
bicycles, and have the community check the garages of their new
homes,” I said. “They could take whatever they find to the nuns at
the supply store and you could take your pick. I’m sure there is
someone that can make any repairs necessary. The big issue will be
tires and tubes.”

“The added benefit of the security team on
bikes will be the town seeing us setting an example, and it will
encourage them to conserve too,” Jim finished my thought.

“I’m going to take
my
bike for a
spin. See you here for lunch?” After he nodded I headed up the
driveway, giddy with excitement.

I headed up Dutch Street and turned at the
old post office, waving to a group seated under the shelter at the
park. I rode past the school, the cold wind blowing through my
short hair. There was a sense of freedom to be moving so fast under
my own power. I pulled into the parking lot of the supply store and
stopped, slightly out of breath. Sister Lynn was just coming
out.

“Oh, my, that looks like fun,” she
giggled.

“In an effort to start conserving gasoline,
the colonel wants to put the security guys on bikes. Can you help
get the word out for everyone to check their places and to bring
all bicycles here?” I told her of our plan.

With renewed enthusiasm I rode down to the
township hall, just in time to see a motorcycle with a trailer pull
into the lot.

I leaned my bike against the building.
“Hello, can I help you?” I asked.

“Perhaps
I
can help
you
!” the
man replied with a smile. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and
although he wore a leather jacket and a helmet, he didn’t strike me
as the biker-type. I quickly chastised myself. I tried not to
stereotype others any more. It just didn’t work in this new world
we lived in.

I held out my hand. “I’m Allexa Smeth.”

“Harold Wolfe, purveyor of seeds and tinker,
at your service,” he introduced himself with a bow of his head and
a firm handshake.

“Well, Mr. Wolfe, please come in to our
offices and meet the mayor,” I said, opening the door. I stepped
inside after him and went directly to Tom’s office. “Tom, we have a
visitor. Mr. Wolfe, this is our mayor, Tom White.”

Tom stood, surprised at the new face, and
extended his hand.

“Harold Wolfe, seller of garden seeds and
tinker,” Harold said.

“Forgive me, we don’t get visitors anymore,”
Tom stated. “What can we do for you?”

“For the past year I’ve been traveling,
selling the seeds I’ve collected over the years, and helping to
repair things if I can.”

“What kind of seeds do you have, Mr. Wolfe?”
I asked. I must admit I was very curious about what he may have
brought with him.

“Harold, please. Mr. Wolfe was my father,”
he laughed. “As for my seeds, everything is heirloom or heritage
and grows in the cooler, short seasons. My goal is to spread food
that can be grown again and again, by saving the seed. Many of the
seeds available prior to the crash were genetically modified with a
kill-gene, and either would not grow again, or would not be true to
the parent plant.”

“I’m a believer in heirloom seed myself,” I
said.

“Ah, then you know how crucial it is to our
future!”

“What is the price of this seed?” Tom asked
skeptically.

“It’s all negotiable. I ask only for a place
to stay while I’m here and one meal a day. Plus some gas when I
leave so I may continue to spread the gardens. I like to think of
myself as a Johnny Appleseed of vegetables,” Harold chuckled.

“What kind of guarantee do we have that this
seed will grow?” Tom asked, ever thinking about the good of his
town.

“Life doesn’t offer guarantees anymore, Mr.
White. However, I plan to stay long enough to prove the seed
germinates. Growing it is up to you,” Harold said.

“Fair enough,” I said. “We have a large
meeting room you can set up in if you need to display. And quite
honestly, I’d like to see what you have. It’s still a bit early for
us to be planting, and with this current cold spell, I’m not sure
when the ground will be warm enough, but I know everyone is anxious
to start growing something, anything.”

*

Tom and I helped Harold bring in some boxes
from the trailer and set them on a table. Harold opened one for us
to see a bunch of water bottles filled with seeds.

“That’s an interesting way to transport,” I
commented.

“Oh, not just for transport, it’s how I
store them. The bottles are air tight and water tight, which
protects the seeds from the elements. Back in Virginia I used to
keep them all in my ‘hidey hole’ under the back porch. It worked
extremely well.”

“How do you get more seeds?” I asked.

“Well, last year at the beginning of summer,
I stayed in the community I sold to and helped them grow it. My
price was just a couple of plants of each variety, and I processed
those seeds, and then moved on. It was a win-win for everyone. Most
of my seeds I harvested from the first fruiting, which was before
the ash cloud hit.” He seemed to drift away for a moment. “Those
were some good people and I wonder how they’re doing.”

“Whose bike is out front?” Jim asked as he
came into the meeting room.

“Harold Wolfe, this is Colonel James
Andrews, chief of our security force,” Tom introduced the two.
“Harold just arrived to sell us garden seeds.”

We spent some time helping Harold sort the
bottles out by type of seed.

“It’s a bit late to start tomatoes and
peppers, although I might want some for next year,” I said, looking
at the different types of tomatoes listed on the bottles. “What
kind of veggies do you two like?” I asked Tom and Jim, realizing I
didn’t know their preferences.

“The edible kind for me, Allex,” Jim
teased.

“Just don’t make me eat spinach,” Tom
added.

“Then slow-bolting Swiss chard is for you,
Mr. White. It’s sweeter,” Harold said knowingly. “Are you the
gardener of the family, Ms. Smeth?”

He zeroed right in on the three of us being
together. “Yes, Harold, I am.” It was best he knew upfront how
tight we were. “We’re going to leave you to finish setting up
however you prefer. This building is quite secure. Tom, Jim, can we
go over some business?”

*

“This could be the boost the town needs,
Allex,” Tom was the first to say once we were behind the closed
doors of his office.

“I agree,” Jim concurred. “We’re starting to
have minor scuffles among the residents. Everyone is getting bored.
A garden to tend will give the people something to do and pull them
closer together.”

“I know there are a couple of vacant rooms
at the Inn. We can put him up there if that’s okay, and Marsha can
give him his one meal per day. My guess is that he will seek a
second meal from anyone willing to feed him,” I said.

“You’ve got good instincts, Allex, what do
you think of this Mr. Wolfe?” Jim asked me.

“I feel he’s sincere, although I suggest we
keep an eye on him. Why don’t we have him for dinner tonight? That
way we can get a better feel for him and decide if his motivations
are what he says they are.”

“I know you can handle yourself, Allex, but
I don’t want you alone with him, okay?” Jim said. I patted his
cheek and agreed.

*

“Harold, as you might have surmised, the
three of us make most of the decisions in town, and we’ve
unanimously decided to accept your offer,” Tom said. “We’ll put you
up at the Inn in the center of town. You will also get the one meal
per day you’ve requested. It will be your choice if you want to
display your seeds here in the offices or take them with you to the
Inn. Tonight we would like you to be our guest for dinner. Colonel
Andrews will check you in with the proprietress there, and show you
where to come for dinner, say around six-thirty for cocktails?”

“Thank you, Mr. White, cocktails will be a
nice treat.” Harold locked eyes with me as he left.

As they walked out the door I heard Jim
quietly say, “She’s mine.”

*

I had just enough time to get home and put
together a one-rise batch of bread in time for dinner.

By six o’clock, the table was set, bread was
baked, and the salmon patties were seared and waiting to go in the
oven for the finishing touches. The rice pilaf with mushrooms was
done and the three-bean salad was chilling. Jim, Tom and I stepped
out onto the deck with a cocktail.

“Any thoughts on how to deal with Wolfe?”
Tom said.

“I don’t know if there’s anything to
deal
with, Tom,” I said. “Let’s give him a chance. He’s
either honest or he’s not. We’ll find out soon enough.” I shivered.
“It’s getting cold. I’m going back inside.”

“For being the end of May it feels more like
October,” Tom observed, once we were all inside again and warming
by the fireplace.

“And the clouds are back, darker than
before,” Jim added. “Allex, are you going to be able to plant
anything in this cold?”

“If it doesn’t warm up soon, maybe not. I’m
going to do root crops first: potatoes, carrots, beets, rutabaga,
turnips. And I’ll cover the beds with plastic until they
germinate,” I said. “Tomorrow I’ll talk to Jason about some kind of
tent or shelter for over that area to help hold in the heat. Eric
has tomatoes and peppers in the greenhouse. I could bring some
back, though they’re better off right there for now.”

There was a knock on the door. Our guest had
arrived.

*

“That was wonderful,” Harold said, wiping
his mouth with the napkin. “I haven’t eaten that well in ages!” Jim
moved to pour more wine, and Harold put his hand over his glass.
“One glass is my limit, thank you. So, what are you looking to
plant this year, Ms. Smeth?”

“I was telling Jim and Tom that because it’s
so cold still, I thought I’d start with root crops until we can
devise some kind of heat retaining shelter,” I answered. “We were
lucky this past winter for weather. It was exceptionally mild,
considering. It could be because we were on the northern edge of
the cloud and that the Keweenaw blocks a lot of our bad weather. I
have a feeling our luck has just run out.” I gazed out the vast
windows, seeing dark clouds accumulating over Lake Superior.

“Tell us more about the last place you were
at, Harold. Oh, and where are you from again?” Jim asked.

“I’m originally from a small town in
Virginia. After my wife and daughter were taken during one of the
flu outbreaks, I had no reason to stay there and decided to travel
with my seeds,” he said. “The last town I stayed in was
Andersonville, just south of Crystal Falls. Nice town and nice
people. As I mentioned, I left there before Yellowstone blew, so
just before the ash cloud. Once the eruption happened I hunkered
down on a farm north of Escanaba with an elderly couple for the
duration. Another win-win situation. They needed the extra help and
I needed a place to stay.”

“Where are you off to next?” Tom asked.

Harold laughed. “I have no idea.”

“One last thing to cover,” Jim said.

“I’m sure you are aware that the country is
under martial law, and that includes us, although my security force
is pretty lenient. If you have a weapon, please keep it secure.
Curfew is ten at night until six in the morning.”

“I will keep that in mind, Colonel. On that
note, I think I will bid you goodnight and head back to my room.”
Harold stood. “Thank you again for a wonderful meal and a
delightful evening.”

After he left, I turned to Jim, “We have a
curfew?”

“No, but
he
does.”

JOURNAL ENTRY: May 23

Even though the air is still chilly
this morning, the winds have died down to nothing. I decided it was
as good of time as any to start working on the raised beds up by
the big barn. I found a rake and a hoe in the barn and got to work.
I will have to find some way to create a compost pile for all the
leaves and weeds I’m removing – I don’t think my friends did much
along that line.

~~~

“That’s starting to look good, Allex,” Jim
said when he came back to the house for some lunch.

“I thought I would start with getting the
leaves and debris off the eight beds first. After lunch I think
I’ll dig up two, maybe three of the beds and try to get at least
some potatoes in the ground.” I dusted the dirt off my hands on my
already dirty jeans. “Raised beds are nice for weeding and
harvesting, though not being able to rototill them creates even
more work, in my opinion.”