Dear Diary, It’s Me, Jessica (Book 2)

You asked for it and 1stMarineJarhead delivered. Please enjoy the first chapter of Volume 2 of Jessica’s story. You can buy Volume 1 in its entirety on Amazon.

Dear Diary,

It’s me, Jessica.

Merry Christmas!

Things have been busy!

School.  

My classes in teaching reading have been going very well.  I have been teaching them all of the letters in the alphabet and then how they work together to form words.  From there, we have been reading out loud together as a group.  Surprisingly, comics and graphic novels seem to get the best results.  For the older kids, we have been reading both Harry Potter and the The Chronicles of Narnia every other day to change it up.  I then assign different kids to read a few pages as the others follow along.

Dad’s classes in engineering have done very well.  He uses a lot of bad ‘dad’ jokes, but it keeps the kids engaged.  His astronomy class has the kids in absolute rapt attention.  

Mom’s math classes, well, some of the kids are excited about it.  Others, not so much.  One kid started to give Mom attitude, disrupting her class.  Mom told Rae.  Rae, as our school’s principal, read him the ‘riot’ act. 

In front of the whole class. 

Jack showed up later, gave him a stern look, and said if he ever disrespected any teacher again, he would have to deal with Jack.  The kid looked terrified.  He quickly became Mom’s best student.

Other classes were going well.  

Mrs. Miller would stop in once in a while and assess how our school was doing.  She said our students were on par with home-schooled children, who tended to test better than the kids who attended the old pre-power outage schools.  She told us to keep it up but not be afraid to try something new if we thought it would be better for the students and get better results.  But she stressed the importance of what was best for the students.  

After-school activities were very popular.  Basketball and soccer were two of the most popular.  They also required the least amount of equipment.  We were able to take a lot of cleats and shin guards for soccer to field teams.  Volleyball was a close second.  I even enjoyed playing, but I don’t think I am very good.  

Surprisingly, the drama club had the most diverse students join.  Joan left the age range open to get the most participants fearing no one would show up.  Not so much!  Not only across age groups but some who I would never have thought would be interested.  

That is when I saw it.

When I was in school, there were different cliques:  Jocks, hoods, stoners, preppies and more.  They were different and stuck to their own kind, talking down of others who were not in their clique.   Our students saw themselves not as different groups but as a community.  They knew they were different but a part of something larger.  And possible external threats had bonded us as a community.  When Jack stood up the militia, no one was a jock, a hood, stoner, preppy, or nerd.  We were all on the front line as the militia, counting on the person to the left or right of us as Jack had drilled into us.  Many of the students were in the militia.  They had been at the fight against the cult.  They may not have taken a shot.  But they were there.

Joan put on a musical of A Charlie Brown Christmas.  She worked in several popular Christmas chorals and a few songs from one of Mom’s favorite Christmas movies, A White Christmas.   Mom made us watch it every year to the point I knew all the songs by heart.  The whole community turned out for the production.  It was so good we all humped out to the Miller’s, where all the farmers and their families from around came to see the kid’s performance.  We then went to Four Corners and performed for them as well.  They got a standing ovation every time!

Jack’s card club was another favorite.  It helped that Jack would joke with the students, praise them for their strategy, or kindly point out their flaws.  He would have several different games going simultaneously then rotate the games around for everyone to switch up their strategy with the game.  For the most part, it was all in good fun, but there were a few who took each game very seriously.  Jack noted them to be possible militia or community leaders.  

Marksman training was limited as there were only four students who were of age and capable of firearms safety.  We did have students who had gone through basic marksman training and were now members of the militia and needed advanced training.  

To conserve ammunition, the militia kept to dry firing while conducting maneuvers of different kinds.  Jack also emphasized weather-related logistical issues.  It was much cooler now in December, and we had to dress accordingly, as Jack would say.  Wet weather gear, too.  How cold temperatures could affect not only ballistics but even the function of firearms, pointing out the last polar vortex as some semi-auto firearms may not function in single-digit temperatures, and a bolt or lever action rifle might be a better bet. 

As Jack would say, “Nothing says, ‘Oh!  Crap!’ like squeezing the trigger and getting a click instead of a bang!”

Jack always emphasized water hydration and how it was possible to become a heat case even in the cooler months.  

The community council had a working Constitution.  It was based on the original Constitution but with some degree of modern language to clear up a few things and settle some other issues.  Everyone seemed happy with it.

The community council was also working on a community plan for the coming year.  Mr. Miller noted that they should be planning for one season ahead of the current one.  Winter, planning for Spring.  Spring for Summer and so on.  The only exceptions were firewood, which required two years of seasoning and breeding programs for different livestock.

Our community only had small livestock like chickens and rabbits.  But even with those, we were looking at which chickens or rabbits produced the most or the best and how to breed them.  Dad was considering trading his skills for a few goats or sheep for milk.  Mom asked him if he really wanted to be a shepherd.  I think he is reconsidering the idea.

The community council made a general, overall plan of what to produce for vegetables to support everyone with no one going hungry, factoring in the possibility of drought, carrying everyone through the following winter.  There were some disagreements as some had a preference for a given vegetable or another.  But it all seemed to work out in the end.  

Jack’s puppies are coming along with their training.’ Like Samson, they are goofy puppies until Jack says it is time to go to work.” Then they sit and give Jack their total attention.  Jack gives the order to track, and they track.  He said attack and pointed at a tree branch, and they tore into it.  

Diary, I am not sure which made me more uneasy, their enthusiasm or Jack’s grin.  

Four Corners had taken on a much more ad-hoc-like community plan.  Sean was trying to write out a plan, but the market just seemed to make it up as they went with the needs of the market.  Sean just shook his head and said, “Aye, that is capitalism for you.”

Mr. Miller took a load of charcoal to Nate.  With Dad’s help, he and Nate built a small but working smithy.  

As Mr. Miller and other farmers brought livestock to trade, others learned from books how to tan and process hides into clothing.  Yellow-toothed Bob traded for a thick sheep-lined coat with the skin exterior treated in fat for waterproofing.  At first, it looked strange, but he was warm and dry.  He also traded for a wide-brim leather hat to keep the sun and rain off him.  

Dad had made a deal with someone to trade for a set of winter boots made of the same sheep-lined material for me as my toes were beginning to cram into my boots.  Mom said I still had another year or three before I was done growing.   

We traded some eggs and a good hunk of smoked and cured bacon for a thick hand-made wool smock with a collar that could be folded up and cinched around my neck with a loop and toggle.  It also had a large brown leather belt and leather fasteners that could cinch the cuffs closed to keep the cold out.  It was too big for me now, coming down to nearly my knees, but I would grow into it.  

Christmas seemed different this year.  It used to be all about the Christmas presents under the tree.  There was no tree, and we did not have much wrapping paper or tape left to wrap presents for the few presents we did have.  The presents were mostly things we traded for or made ourselves.  Mom and I did use some pine tree branches to weave a length of garland for the fireplace mantel and a few wreaths of different sizes for doors.  Those and the smell of pine gave the house a Christmasy feel.  We decorated them with the Christmas ornaments we would have put up on a tree and other decorations around the house, which made things much more Christmas-like and brighter despite the ones with lights that did not work.  We made and gave large wreaths to Sam, Joanna, and Rae for their home doors.  That seemed to be a new tradition around the neighborhood.  Mom traded fresh herbs for more candles.  Dad said we just had to be careful we did not put them anywhere they could start a fire.  HAM Guy said there were reports of people knocking over candles or not being careful with them and fires starting.  Without a modern fire department, that could be a disaster. 

We had Christmas dinner at our house again. With our larger fireplace, the propane stove still has gas, and Dad’s outdoor oven it only made sense.  And the house was full!  Rae, Kathy, Joan and Allison, Sam and Joanna, HAM guy, Jack and the dogs.  Everyone brought a dish, and Rae and Joan brought three.  HAM Guy charged Mom’s laptop so we could listen to Christmas songs while we cooked.  Our dining room table was not very big to begin with, so we had to get creative with the seating for dinner.  Rae, Kathy, Joan, Allison, and I sat on the floor and used the coffee table.  Jack and HAM Guy sat on the couch.  The dogs sat somewhere in between, looking attentively for a treat from someone. 

With the fire, the candles, the decorations, the music, good food, and friends and family, it was a good Christmas after all.

You can find the first book, Dear Diary, It’s Me, Jessica, in paperback and Kindle format.

About 1stMarineJarHead

1^stMarineJarHead is not only a former Marine, but also a former EMT-B, Wilderness EMT (courtesy of NOLS), and volunteer firefighter.

He currently resides in the great white (i.e. snowy) Northeast with his wife and dogs. He raises chickens, rabbits, goats, occasionally hogs, cows and sometimes ducks. He grows various veggies and has a weird fondness for rutabagas. He enjoys reading, writing, cooking from scratch, making charcuterie, target shooting, and is currently expanding his woodworking skills.