Pt. 5

The child's words had caught him totally by surprise. His eyes had followed her as she ran back and crawled into her mother's lap. He chuckled to himself and thought what profound words for such a young child. People were slowly dispersing now. They were walking away in different directions heading towards their quarters. Most had accommodations nearby. Some, like himself had been assigned to lodging that was a mile walk or more away. The shelters were anything that was somewhat secure and provided protection from the elements. Most of the beautiful homes that had once been coveted and claimed before the "Day of Fury" lay in ashes. Many had been able to find shelter in the parts of homes or garages that hadn't been totally destroyed. Some had taken residence in RV’s or travel trailers that were not damaged too badly… some in vans or school buses that had escaped the destruction.

The "Seers" and their families had been provided accommodations in the few homes that had been left undamaged. Special details had been assigned to repair any damage to their homes. Others were assigned to search for any salvageable solar power components and install these in the homes. It provided them with lighting and other devices that would make their lives more comfortable. It also powered their well pumps so that they had running water and functioning toilets. For the most prominent, some of the homes even had swimming pools and battery powered golf carts. Each family had also been assigned two discreet "Compeers" who served as their permanent helpers. These ones became known as "Varlets" They performed such tasks as cooking, cleaning, laundry, and all the yard work and maintenance of the grounds. It was a privilege to be chosen as a "Varlet".

He had taken up residence on what must have been an old dairy farm before the destruction. The old house had been incinerated and the remnants had collapsed into the basement. The roof of the old barn had partially toppled, but it still sufficiently protected a large amount of baled hay inside. It had a field stone basement with two rows of stanchions. One of the long walls was at grade level and there was a large opening in the center that at one time allowed cattle to pass in and out. There were a few rooms that had been partitioned off. One held a large amount of grain and shelled corn. He had taken it upon himself to care for "Fireball" who was anxiously awaiting her daily ration of grain and hay. Near the barn was another structure that had been used as a workshop. It was a modest structure built of rough sawn wood and a corrugated tin roof. It had a functional wood stove along the back wall. Leather reins, harnesses and other tack hung neatly from the rafters. Along one of the long walls was a bench top made from thick oak boards. An old vice was fastened at one end. A nice assortment of well maintained hand tools hung from pegs on the wall above the bench. He had made it quite comfortable… a warm bed, an old wooden table and chairs, and even a kerosene lamp that he had found. A small bookshelf near the head of his bed contained a number of books that he had secretly salvaged. The "Seers" had proclaimed that only the "Scriptures" were approved reading material. Anything else was collected by the “work details" and burned every seventh day. You could be severely punished if you were caught with contraband publications. An old outhouse stood a short distance from his quarters. It was a luxury for him. Most of the "Compeers" had only a five gallon plastic bucket or other type of container which had to be regularly emptied and cleaned. On the other side of the building, between it and the collapsed house, stood a windmill that surprisingly still functioned perfectly. If there was a slight breeze, he could pump all the water that he needed.

By the time that he had fed "Fireball" and brushed her down a bit, the sun had set and it would soon be dark. He washed again from a bucket that he had filled that morning, and set in the sun to warm. There was a concrete slab outside the door of the workshop which made a good place to clean up. He was happy to get out of the foul smelling clothes that he wore. Tomorrow was the "rest day" so it would give him an opportunity to scrub these clothes as best he could. After washing outside he felt slightly chilled, so he made a small fire in the wood stove just as the last light receded. He had also lit a candle that he kept in a small jelly jar. In the far corner, under where the harnesses hung, he lifted up a small section of the worn floorboards. In between the floor joists was where he had hidden the bottle of vodka and a Colt .45 automatic pistol with one hundred rounds. He poured himself a modest amount into a pint mason jar that he kept on his bookshelf. There were another eleven full bottles that he had concealed in the hay mow of the old barn. He had discovered it, along with some coffee, during a "salvage detail" that he had been a part of. He had thrown some refuse over it at the time so it wouldn't be discovered. That night, in the dark, he had made his way back to recover it. It was worth the risk. Across the front, the label read "Stolichnaya". This was his and it wouldn't end up in the "Seers" coffers. He reached for the book that he had been reading. "The Gulag Archipelago" was its title. It was a story about the Russian slave labor camps. He knew if he was caught with this that it would be confiscated, destroyed and he would be severely punished. But he had lost any fear of the "Seers" that he might once have had. After all, he chuckled to himself; he was "the chosen one". The vodka was warm on his throat and belly. It had brought his mind to that perfect state of numbness. He made it through a few pages of the book. His eyes slowly closed and the candle melted into a yellow puddle.

..to be continued.