The Last Tribe (47 page)

“Let’s start with the weather.”  He
said to her.  “I understand the weather.”

John walked into the room drying
his hands with a towel.  “Okay, are we ready for a fun day of house and bed
hunting?” 

“If we decide to put the kids
upstairs, I say we use mattresses.  Hanover is not our long term destination.
I’m not busting my back, literally, to move bunk beds upstairs when four year
olds can sleep on mattresses.”   Paul stated.

“There are single beds up there
already, one in each room.  We never moved the wood frames, just stacked around
and on top of them.  All we need are mattresses.  An adult can sleep in a
single.  We’ll put mattresses on the floor for their kids.”

“Done.”  John agreed.  “Where can
we get mattresses?”

“The building next door was a
sorority.  There are at least twenty mattresses ready to be brought over
here.”  Rebecca told him.

“I guess that leaves house
hunting.”  John said, relieved he would not be moving bunk bed frames.

“Why don’t you and Rebecca find
houses while Matt and I check the traps.  Matt can relieve Greg of some of the
burden if he knows where the traps are.  We might check them twice a day when
the new people get here.  We’ll need a lot of food.”

“I’m up for that.”  Matt said
enthusiastically. 

“We can throw a few lines in Occom
Pond on our way back, see if we can grab a few fish and help out the fishing
party.”  Paul told him.  “I doubt the holes have frozen over.”

Matt gave a thumbs up as he put on
his new boots.  Rebecca gave him a pair out of her stash.  Craig and John wore
the same style.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” 
John told Rebecca. 

“We’ll be done and back in the warm
cozy house first.  We win.”  She said, getting up from her chair to prepare for
a walk around the neighborhood.  “We broke into all of the homes for food.  We
looked in kitchens and avoided bedrooms for obvious reasons.  Every house on
Choate and around Occum is unlocked.  Do we have a plan for previous
occupants?”  Rebecca could do a lot of things, but disposing of a dead and
decaying body was not one of them.

“Let’s cross that bridge when we
come to it.  Maybe we will get lucky and find an empty house with five bedrooms
with fireplaces.  We can use the first floor dens with fireplaces in houses
that have bodies.  We aren’t staying in Hanover for the long haul.  We just
need a few rooms we can heat with wood and have space for a mattress.”

John looked at the ceiling, a habit
he had when he thought.  “Let me see, how many bedrooms do we need?  Melanie
can sleep with her three kids in a room upstairs.  Todd and Emily can sleep at
our old house in the bedroom with their kids.  Bernie or Kelly can sleep
upstairs with the three kids from New York.”  John paused and was about to
suggest that Rebecca take notes, but when he looked down, she was back in her
chair, writing what he was saying.

“How many people are there?”  She
asked him.

“We have Avery and Meredith, two
teenage girls who can share a room.  Paul, Hank, and I can stick to the
study.”  John paced while he thought.  “The rest of the people are singles;
Ahmed, Kelly, Solange, Peter, Jamie, and Sal.”  He stopped pacing.  “Wow, that
means we need seven more bedrooms.”

“We might not be the first back to
the house.”  Rebecca joked with him, standing next to the coat rack and
slipping her arm in the sleeve of her coat.  “Let’s confirm the houses on Choate
Road, but from your head count and the rooms I know are available, we should be
fine.”

“What do you mean confirm?  Don’t
we need to check?”  John asked.

“I don’t know what you think Greg
and I did this fall, but it wasn’t all fun and games.  I know the streets and
homes around this cottage like the back of my hand.  We arrived in Hanover and
tried your suggestion.  I don’t know what is up with your old house.  It’s
cavernous in every room except the bedroom and den.  We couldn’t live in that
house if we tried.”

“Now that you mention it, we did
wear a lot of sweaters growing up.”  John went to the coat rack, slipped on his
coat, put on his new boots, courtesy of Rebecca, and walked out the door.  John
kept the two way radio turned on and strapped to his belt in case Todd arrived
early. 

“So Rebecca, tell me about
yourself.”  John said as they walked the few feet to Choate Road.  “How did a
nice girl like you get mixed up with my son?”

Rebecca had been around adults her
entire life, teachers, tutors, professors, people who came into her life
because of her talents.  She was confident around older people, and comfortable
speaking with them on their level.  It did not occur to her to view John in any
other way but as an equal.  She told him the whole story, everything, her life,
her parents, meeting Greg, coming to Hanover. 

John barely said a word.  He
understood why his son was so taken with this girl.  She was extraordinary in
the truest meaning of the word. 

John also noticed that Paul and
Hank already deferred to her for advice and information.  She rattled off
charcoal inventories, weather predictions, and models about their new colony
site with ease and surety.  Despite his desire to lead the new tribe, this
young girl seemed to be the natural choice. 

“I’m sorry about your parents.” 
John snuck in during a break in her story.  “Greg lost his mother, my wife, at
about the same time.  I lost my parents a few years ago, but it’s not the same
as losing them at the age of 13, and losing both parents at the same time none
the less.  I’m sorry.”

“I loved them, and they will always
be with me.  I was sad, but I understand, this is how it is.  They are gone, I
can’t change it, I have to move on, so I do.”  They were two houses down from
the family house on Choate road confirming one last bedroom.  Two of the houses
on the street were vacant and provided a master bedroom and a den with
fireplaces.  Two other houses had dens with fireplaces, and occupants on the
second floor.  “Greg was devastated about his mother.  I know he’s still sad he
didn’t get to say goodbye, that he wasn’t there.”  She paused.  “You know she
is the reason we made it through the winter, right?”

“How do you mean?”  John asked.

“If she hadn’t dragged Greg on that
tour of Webster Cottage, hadn’t insisted that he receive culture while he was
on vacation up here, instead of letting him just rot his brain, well, he would
not have known or remembered about the cottage, and we would have struggled in
some other house.  We were living in the den of your old house.  We checked all
the homes on Occom Pond, and were coming back from a failed visit to a real
estate office, when he suddenly remembered Webster.  He thanked her right then,
looked up at the sky and thanked her.” 

They stood in the vestibule of the
last house as Rebecca told John the story.  His eyes filled with tears.

“Anyway, it’s a nice story, and I
thought you would like it.  Your wife helped save our lives.  A lot of people
did.  My parents, you, your wife, all the influences we’ve ever had helped two
young kids live through a Hanover winter alone and without power.  Your wife,
she put the roof over our heads.”

John was moved.  “Thank you, you’re
right, it is a nice story, and one I doubt I would have heard otherwise.” 

She leaned forward and hugged him,
partly because she could tell he needed a hug, and partly to thank him for
being Greg’s father.  He hugged her back, tightly.  John said through tears and
with all the sincerity in the world, “thank you, Rebecca, for keeping my son
alive.  Thank you for keeping him alive for me.”

“We saved each other, we really
did.”  Rebecca confessed.  “How was a 13 year old girl going to survive a
winter by herself?  I had as much of a chance as a 14 year old boy.  Together,
we thrived, alone, we probably barely survive.  Greg saved me as much as I
saved him.”  She released her hug.  “Whatever or whoever is up there looking
out for me, they sent Greg to my house last fall.  The odds of him picking that
exit?  But he did, and we made it.”

“Yes you did.”  John told her, “yes
you did.”  He wiped his nose and eyes on the sleeve of his coat until he saw a
tissue dangling from Rebecca’s hand.  She pulled it out of her pocket and
handed it to him.  He looked at her with confusion, and accepted the tissue
“where did you?  Um, thank you.”

“I like to be prepared.”  Rebecca
smiled. 

John blew his nose and wiped his
tears.  “I guess you do.”  He gave her a quick squeeze on the shoulders and
kissed her head.   “Let’s finish finding a room for our new clan, and figure
out where we go from here.” 

They went into the last house and where
Rebecca said there was a den on the first floor with a fireplace.  Even she was
surprised when it had a couch with a pull out queen bed.  To give themselves
options, they confirmed the final bedroom with a fireplace upstairs.  The last
house on the block was also vacant, providing an extra bedroom and den.

“Let’s cross off the two houses
with bodies, and stick to the four houses that are empty.  People can double up
in a house as long as they have their own rooms.”  They stood on Choate Road in
front of John’s childhood home.  “We’ll park the RV’s out here so people can
use the water and bathrooms.  I think Choate road is going to work.”

“It will take a lot of firewood to
keep these houses warm at night.”  Rebecca thought about their current supply. 
“We’re fine for tonight, but as the stay extends, we are going to have to gather
firewood from all the houses around town.  There is plenty of fuel, we just
have to find it and get it to these houses.”

“Hard work is not a problem. 
People will gather the wood tomorrow.”  He looked at her.  “That’s what our
life is now, hunting and fishing for food, gathering fuel to cook and keep
warm.”

“At least we know where we can find
all of it, that’s more than half the battle.”  They turned and walked to the
Cottage.  Greg stood at the top of the street and waved to them.

“How’d we do?  Are we all going to
be crammed into the cottage?”  He shouted curiously.

“Only if wood becomes scarce,
otherwise, we should be good on rooms.”  John yelled back to his son. 

“Either of you want to walk to the
golf course with me?”  Greg thought he still had traps to check.

“Paul and Matt are taking care of
it.  You are off duty.”  John lowered his voice as they drew close enough to Greg
to speak normally. 

“I had Uncle Hank drop me off at
the bottom of the hill so I could check for animals.  As long as I’m here,
let’s walk to the pond and throw lines in the water.  I have the bait in my
pocket.  Come on, Dad, let’s show Uncle Hank and Craig how it’s done.”

“I’m game.”  Rebecca told him. 
“Come on John, when was the last time you got to fish with your son?”

“It’s been what, 10 months since
we’ve gone, Greg?”  They turned around and walked down Choate Road toward Occom
Pond.  They followed the path Greg blew clean of snow and ice.  As the pond
came in view, they saw two figures already standing next to ice holes. 

They made their way to the water
and said hello to Matt and Paul.  Uncle and nephew had two rabbits and three
squirrels from the traps, along with five white perch and bass from the pond. 
Today was a good day for food.

“We cleaned the animals next to the
fishing hole and used the guts to chum the water and for bait.”  Matt explained
to his father.  “It’s a great system, and one I find hard to believe my brother
developed.”

Greg punched him on the shoulder. 
“Necessity is the mother of invention.”  Greg told him.

“What are we going to do with all
the excess fish?”  Matt asked.  “Do you have a smoker?”

“We do, but we can pack it in snow,
put the animals and the fish we don’t need in ice in the fridge on the back
porch.  The low temperatures, the fact that we keep it out of the sun, means we
can store meats in there for two days if needed.“  Paul explained.  “Smoking
the meat limits our cooking options.  Unless we need it to travel, we hunt,
ice, eat.”

They stayed at the ice holes
talking and fishing for another half hour, pulling a dozen fish from the pond. 
They decided they had enough for lunches and dinners for the next two days. 
They packed the meat and fish in snow, and headed back to the cottage.

It was warm out, hitting the upper
40’s before lunch.  Streams of melting snow passed by them and under their feet
as they walked up the incline of Choate Road.   “We may not have snow to use
for packing in a few weeks.”  Matt said to his uncle.  “Smoking or curing will
be the way within a month.”

“Or we eat what we kill
immediately.”  Paul replied.  

They fed the dwindling fire in the
woodstove and prepared for lunch.  The Webster Cottage was filled with
happiness and enthusiasm about the future, a welcome change for the last people
alive in the northeast.

“If we decide to stay here, or stay
for a year, we need to stop fishing in Occom.”  Greg announced.  “We’ve been
pulling fish out of there since fall, and I bet the population is shrinking. 
Our population is about to grow 4X, and that means we would need four times the
fish.  There is no way such a little pond can sustain our group with continuous
fishing.”  He spoke expressively with his hand, something he did when he addressed
a group.  “It’s our closest option in the winter, and one I believe should be a
last resort.  In the summer we’ll have to use cars or bikes to get to other
places, other lakes.  We could even figure out how to properly fish the
Connecticut.  I bet there are some whoppers in that river.”

“We have to leave.  It’s too cold
up here.”  John told him.  “It’s just too cold, and we can move to Virginia,
gain twenty degrees in average temp, gain a month on either end of the growing
cycle, be on the ocean.  It makes a lot more sense.  Sure, we’ll still have
winter, but our food and farming options grow exponentially.”