The Last Tribe (46 page)

Bernie gave her last service in her
beloved, New York, seminary at 10:00am.  She did not expect people to attend,
but the entire tribe was there.  She was touched by their gesture, giving a
brief homily about Noah and the great flood, comparing the RV’s to her personal
rainbow.  God’s sign for her to leave the old world behind for the new one He
created.  The adults cried.  The kids were restless. 

The tribe divided between the RV’s by
10:45.  Ahmed volunteered to drive the RV without a trailer, and Todd sat
behind the wheel of the RV pulling the storage locker.  Todd honked his horn
twice, and there was a loud cheer from the cabin.  The vehicles pulled away
from the seminary and were across the GW bridge towards their new life before
Sal’s eyes fluttered open at noon.

Todd was awarded the “girls only”
RV with Bridget, Wendy, Casey, Meredith, Avery, Solange, Kelly, and Emily.  It
was a peaceful vehicle filled with coloring, crafting, and a princess movie. 
Ahmed’s RV was the “boys rule mobile.”  Loud music, wrestling and video games
were promised.  Jamie and Peter loved the action of the boys’ RV.  Melanie lost
the coin flip with Solange, as did Bernie with Kelly.  They sat on a sofa in
the boys’ car.  Antonio sat next to them.  He was tired, and not ready to join
in the fun.

“Let me know if you need to stop,
otherwise, Hanover or bust.”  Todd’s voice crackled through a walkie talkie.

“The boys are already screaming.  I
might need a cold compress on my forehead in about a half hour.”  Ahmed shot
back. 

“We should think about stopping in
a few hours, maybe on the other side of Hartford, Connecticut.  We’ll grab
lunch and walk around.  Talk to you then.”   Todd accelerated out of New York.

“Good riddance.”  Solange proclaimed
as they left Manhattan.

The Dixon brothers walked from
their childhood home on Choate Road to Webster Cottage.  It was in the low
40’s.  The road, thawed to the pavement in several spots, did not re-freeze
over night.  The sun was up, and the sky was clear. 

It was a beautiful late winter day
in Hanover, New Hampshire.

They stomped their feet on the mat
outside the cottage, and opened the mudroom door to a house busy with activity
and conversation.  Rebecca was showing Craig how to make the beds, and explaining
to him that it was “required” at the cottage.  Craig nodded, but the look on his
face said “really?  Every day?”

Matt and Greg were in the kitchen
laughing.  John waved good morning to Craig and Rebecca, hung his coat on the
coat rack, put his shoes in the boot bin, and walked back to see what the
laughter was about. 

“What’s going on back here?”  John
gave Greg a hug.  “I still can’t believe we found you safe and sound.  I bet
you’re in better shape than when we dropped you at Hightower this summer.”

“Good morning, Dad.  Coffee is hot
in the pot.  Squirrel hash is in the oven.”  Greg’s cheeks were red from
laughter.  “Matt was telling me about all the things you fed him.  You know,
before Matt kind of took over the cooking.” 

“You mean the month of tuna mac? 
Is that what you’re laughing about?  Me keeping you alive?”  He scoffed in mock
anger towards Matt. 

“Month?  Really, Dad?  You think it
was just a month of tuna mac?  If I see another can of tuna mixed into macaroni
and smothered in Italian dressing…”  Matt could not contain his smile.

“Well, it’s what we had, and I
changed up the pasta when I could.  There was tuna spaghetti, and tuna rotini,
and tuna penne.  There were a lot of tuna pasta’s.  That’s how I kept it
fresh.”  He shook his head as he poured his coffee.  “And you make fun of tuna
mac but say nothing about squirrel hash?  That’s not fair.”

“Squirrel hash?  Oh man, I was
hoping it was going to be squirrel hash!  Did you crack the eggs on top?”  Paul
walked into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. 

“I did.  Should be ready in a
minute.  I have the bread sliced to put in the oven.”  Greg replied.  The
kitchen smelled delicious.  It was warm from the heat of the stove.  “So what’s
on tap for today?  I assume we need to get ready for visitors.  How many did
you say exactly?”

“Twenty, twenty people, ten kids,
ten adults.”  John said through a sip of coffee.  “We are going to need a lot
of trout and squirrel.”

“That won’t be a problem.”  Hank
said as he walked into the room.  He smelled the air, “Squirrel hash, nice.” 
He gave a nod to Greg.

“Does everyone know about squirrel
hash?  Am I really that out of touch with the new world?”  John held his arms
out on either side in confusion, a paper cup of coffee in his hand. 

“We should block off the road at
the Lebanon exit, put signs up so the RV’s go through Lebanon.  We need the
supplies and RV’s here, not at the bottom of Wheelock.  It will be tough to
turn those big vehicles around if they make it to Norwich and across the bridge. 
I will follow you with the jeep, and we can park the suburban across the road,
put an arrow on the side to show them the way, leave a note.”  Matt watched
Greg open the oven and pull out a lasagna pan to rest on a wood chopping
block.  The pan contained potatoes and squirrel meat mixed with vegetables. 
Eight sunny side-up eggs sat on top of the mixture.  Greg popped the bread into
the oven.

John’s mouth watered.  “Todd and I have
two way radios.  They should have a range of 25 miles or more, but with these
mountains, who knows.”  He stopped.  “I’m done talking until I eat some of that
hash.”

“Squirrel hash,”  Greg corrected. 

The addition of John, Craig, and
Matt made eating in the kitchen cramped, but the new Dixons were a welcome
presence.  Perhaps it was because Greg spoke so often of his family, but the
change from Greg and Rebecca just a few months earlier, to a kitchen full of
people seemed natural.

“We need to split up and attack the
chores separately.  Should we just volunteer?  Are we going to follow a leader
here?  How does this dynamic work? “  John was used to being in control.  He
did not want to step on toes.  Hank was older, Paul was his twin.

Hank understood John’s dilemma.  “I
have heard a lot about Craig’s fishing.  Too much about Craig’s fishing.”  He
looked at Greg.  “I wouldn’t mind taking him over to the trout club and seeing
if we can catch a few fish for dinner tonight.”  There was a pause while Hank
waited for Craig and John to respond.

“Craig, you up for a morning of
fishing with your Uncle Hank?”  John asked his youngest.  “You have to provide
for the entire group.  It might take a while.”

“Not the way we’re going to fish. 
We’ll be back by lunch with twenty fish, easy.”  Craig threw up a hand for Hank
to high five.

“Paul?”  Hank asked.  “Do we need
to get a giant Weber grill from the hardware store?”

“We have one of those, don’t worry
about it.”  John cut in before Paul could respond.  “A few bags of charcoal
would be great if we can get them.”

Paul looked at Rebecca.  She kept
meticulous account of their food, fuel, and supplies.

“We have charcoal in the dorm next
door.  Greg and I hit the Home Depot and Walmart in Lebanon, and I brought some
from Concord.  There are 27  bags of forty pound regular and 31 bags of the
self starting five pound bags.” Rebecca rattled off the stats between bites.

Paul turned back to John.  “We’re
good.”

John stared at Rebecca for a
second.   

“My parents owned a grocery store. 
I’m used to keeping inventories in my head.  It’s just a thing I do.”  She
explained.

Paul continued.  “Why don’t the
rest of us figure out the sleeping arrangements.  It’s still cold at night.  We
need rooms with fireplaces.  We have two bedrooms upstairs, and we can use the
study and bedroom at our old house.  How many singles do we need?” 

 “We have to find other houses,
close houses with fireplaces that are free of bodies.  The RV’s use propane for
heat, and I’m not sure we should rely on them as an option.” 

Matt looked at his brother.  “This
squirrel hash is crazy good.  When did you learn to cook?”

 “We’ve been working with him.”  Hank
replied.  “He’s a great student, and since he’s the one who is catching almost
all of the game, he wanted to start cooking it too.  You should have tasted the
roasted squirrel he made the day we arrived.  He is a fantastic prairie chef.”

“They taught me about herbs,
pairing things together, and well, using wine.  Rebecca and I didn’t use wine
in our cooking.  The squirrel hash was my invention.  I mixed potatoes and
squirrel one night, added vegetables the next morning, and voila, squirrel
hash.”

“Well it kicks ass.”  Matt told
him.

“He’s a natural, that’s for sure.” 
Hank forked the last bite into his mouth.  “Craig and I will head out in a
few.  Greg has to check his traps.  Rebecca has to tell us about the weather
for the next few days.”

“Sunny and 50’s during the day, mid
thirties at night.  I don’t see any storms for the next three days.”  She said
quickly.

“Okay,” Hank continued.  “One of
you can come with me and Craig.  We’ll follow you to the Lebanon exit so you
can leave the suburban there, and we’ll drive you back to the bottom of the
hill.  The rest of you can find bunk beds to put upstairs, and locate more
homes to use for sleeping.  I would suggest checking the houses on this street
that haven’t been renovated.  We aren’t looking for a place to live, just to
send people to sleep each night.”  Hank looked around the table.  “Sound like a
plan?”

There was consensus around the
room.  “How was that for planning a day without naming a leader?”  He asked
John.  “I hope the rest of the people you’ve rounded up are as reasonable as we
are.”

“You know what?  I think they are. 
There is one guy that might be a problem.  A drug addict.  I did not get to
meet him. The rest?  Nice, hardworking, honest people who understand the
situation we are in and want to move ahead and build a life, at least for the
most part.”

“I have a question.”  Craig chimed
in unexpectedly.  “Can Greg come with me and Uncle Hank?  I haven’t seen him in
a long time, and want to spend some time with him.”

“You got it little brother.  You
and I can drive in the Jeep together behind Uncle Hank.  I was going to ask the
same thing.”  Greg told the white lie to make his younger brother happy.  “I
can show off my driving to you.”

The day was set into motion.  Hank,
Greg, and Craig put on boots and warm weather gear for the walk down to the
cars.  While they got dressed, Rebecca made a few signs and arrows on white
paper to direct the RV’s towards the correct exit. 

As the fishing party said goodbye,
Greg gave a nod to Rebecca.  They exchanged smiles.  She was sitting at the
table with her computer print outs, double checking her weather calculations. 
“See you when we get back.  Don’t let my brother push you around.”  He said to
her before the door shut.

“Greg Dixon, in all the time you’ve
known me, have I ever given you the impression I am a person who can be pushed
around?” 

“No, ma’am.”  He said with a
smile.  “I guess I should say, please go easy on my brother and father.”

“I will, and I’ll see you when you
get back.  We have a busy day.”  She looked down at her work.

Greg shut the door, grinning as he
always did after talking to Rebecca.

“Okay, Craig, here’s the deal.  You
can’t show Uncle Hank up too much.  Try to let him get a few before you really
pour it on.”  Greg put his arm around his younger brother.

“Hey, now.  Let’s not forget who
caught the first fish up at the trout club.  It wasn’t you, Greg.”  Hank said
defensively.

“I understand.”  Craig looked at
his older brother and nodded with a smile.  They walked towards Wheelock Street
and the steep hill down to their vehicles.

Rebecca sat at her table focusing
on her weather charts.  She had a few projects going, but did not like to
divide her concentration.

Matt moved from the kitchen to the
dining room to talk to her.  He looked at the charts and calculations taped to
the walls and realized he was out of his depth.

“Is all of this yours or is some of
it Uncle Paul’s?”  Matt asked Rebecca.  He was not yet aware of her advanced
intelligence.

“We work on some of it together.”
She said, turning around in her chair.  Rebecca made a vow, never put work
ahead of conversation with friends.  She used to sit in the library at school
and be upset when a person interrupted her, annoyed that she was being pulled
away from her figures.  She did not regret her past behavior, but decided to
change going forward.

“That’s a lie.  I don’t understand
half the stuff she’s doing.”  Paul yelled from the kitchen.

Rebecca blushed.  “Well, I guess it
is mostly mine, but Paul helps with some of it.”

“Lie.”  He yelled again.

“So what is all this?  I heard
about where we should live, is that what all of this is about?  Calculations
about deciding where we should live?”

“Some of it.  I figured out the
best places to live pretty quickly.  We are refining which place is best based
on how easy it will be to get there, and what things will already be at the
location.  If we decide to move to Iowa, which we aren’t, but let’s say we are
moving to Waverly, Iowa, you’d expect to find seeds, crop seeds, fields cleared
for planting, irrigation systems, etc….  What is something like that worth to
us?  How does that factor into our calculations?  Should we accept twenty extra
days of winter in exchange for cleared fields?  Should we move to a lower
January average temperature if it means we don’t have to find and haul corn and
wheat seed?  I’ve been trying to assign weight to those types of variables.”

“Uh huh.”  He said, nodding his
head, but not understanding the formulas.  He grasped the concepts, but not the
math behind her work.  “How old are you?”

“I’m 13.”  She kept her chair
turned around and attention on him.

“And you’re in what grade?”  Matt
pulled his eyes away from the graphs to look at her.

“I’m not in any grade anymore, but
I would be a freshman in college right now.  I don’t know where I would be, but
I was starting last Christmas.”

“She was coming to UC to be in my
medical program.”  Paul yelled from the kitchen.

“No, I wasn’t, but I did get
accepted early at Cincinnati.”  She turned towards the kitchen.  “Thank you,
Paul.”  She yelled to him.

“Okay, none of this makes sense to
me.  Not the charts, and not that you are only 13 and were already in college,
but in the grand scheme of the last year?  I guess nothing surprises me
anymore.”   Matt pulled out the chair next to her.  “Can you teach me some of
this?  I’m not saying right now, but down the road?  Just the weather.”  He
stuttered while pointing to the weather charts.   “I mean, if it’s not too much
trouble.  I don’t want to hold you up or anything.” 

“You couldn’t if you tried.”  Paul
said from the doorway.  He came into the room to get ready for the day.  “If I
didn’t hold her up, you won’t either.”  He went passed them into the living
room.

Rebecca laughed at Paul.  “Of
course I can.  It’s a good idea to have two people who can predict the
weather.  I’m not using many variables, just barometric pressure and
temperature.  Anyway, yes, it would be great to work with you.”

Matt continued to look at some of
the paper on the table.  “What’s all of this?”

“Well, depending on where we decide
to go, I have recommended items we will need to take.  The length of the list
is a factor in the location we choose.  I know, it’s kind of a chicken and the
egg thing, but that’s what you’re looking at right now.  If we go to Key West
we need a lot of things, which actually hurts our chances of picking Key West
as a location.”