Dear Diary, It’s Me, Jessica: Part 18

Missed the other parts? Find them here:

• Check out Part 1
• Part 2 is here.
• Part 3
• Part 4
• Part 5
• Part 6
• Part 7
• Part 8
• Part 9
• Part 10
• Part 11
• Part 12
• Part 13
• Part 14
• Part 15
• Part 16
• Part 17

Dear Diary,

It’s me, Jessica.

We got a cat.

No.  Wait.  That is not right.

As Mom said, “The cat adopted us.”

I was helping Mom weed the gardens when I turned around, and there was this cat, out of nowhere, walking cat-like up to me and gave a small, “Meow.”

I bent over, and it let me pick it up, putting its head on my left shoulder as I scratched it behind its ears.  It let out a purr like a small motor.  Carefully rubbing its belly, I turned it over to check its sex.  It was female.  I carried her into the house to feed it some of the leftover cured and hot smoked chicken Dad made yesterday.  She eagerly took the strips of chicken as I fed her.  She had a very interesting “splotch” like black and white pattern, so I decided to name her “Oreo.”

I wanted to keep Oreo with us in the house, but Mom said,

“No.  I do not want a mess in the house, and she needs to earn her keep by being a good mouser.”

I was about to argue with her when something Billy said came to mind, “All the livestock earn their keep.  Cows, sheep, goats, hogs, rabbits, and chickens turn forage into milk, meat, or eggs.  The horses and beasts of burden are transportation or provide labor we cannot do at their kind of strength unless we use the tractor.  Eventually, we will run out of fuel.  They all fertilize the fields or provide compost for improvement of the gardens.”

As much as I wanted Oreo to sleep with me, out she went.  

I fed her every day with whatever we had for breakfast and dinner.  Otherwise, she was left to her own devices.  Dad built a small “house” for her on the front porch where she would sleep during the day.  I kept a bowl of water on top for her.  I would find “gifts” from her on the front porch in the form of a dead mouse or mole.   I saw her with a good-sized rat in her mouth as she took it away.  

Oreo gets a few ear scratches every day from me, and treats too.  Joanna said she saw her around her house and garden too, sometimes finding a “gift.”  I asked her not to feed Oreo as I wanted her to be “my” cat.  Joanna smiled and said okay.  

Dad had finished his outdoor oven and stove and was doing his first firing to “cure” it with a very intense fire when they also held the first community council meeting in our backyard.  It was a open meeting for anyone in the community to attend, but seemed kind weird.  The council stood and talked about what they were thinking as a group to everyone else who attended, sitting in camp chairs or even on the ground.  

HAM guy reported they were still working on the community’s version of a Constitution.  

Rae reported school would start the following week for the children.  We learned who was teaching what, and who was coaching sports or other activities.  I was assigned to teach reading to those under the age of ten and marksmanship with Jack.  For the past two weeks, Jack had been training me on how to be a good marksmanship instructor.  Breathing, natural point of aim, sight alignment, sight picture, squeezing the trigger, focus on the front sight, and, of course, safety.  It was only to be a basic course on marksmanship.  Advanced marksmanship would be taught at militia training.   

Dad pointed to his oven and stove with their hot fire and said everyone was welcome to use them if they brought their own fuel and cleaned up afterward.  

Mr. Miller talked about how he and the other farmers were planning on bringing livestock and crops to our community for trade and working with Sean to Four Corners.  He also spoke of how the farmers were putting into place a “breeding” program of livestock, horses, and even working dogs.  Jack had traded for two German Shepard puppies to raise and train as trackers and guardian dogs from one of the outlying farms.  The woman he traded the puppies for asked Jack to ask around at the market if anyone else had German Shepard dogs that could breed.  She wanted to avoid inbreeding and diversify the line. 

Samson did not seem thrilled as the puppies playfully bit at his ears.  A low growl from Samson seemed to get the message to the puppies not to “play” with him.  

Diary, the puppies were so cute! But their teeth were sharp! I could relate to Samson as one of them attacked my shoe. Its teeth went through the nylon mesh and nipped my big toe.

Entry two

It had been about two weeks since we had been to market, and what a change!  

A group of men used axes to fell trees.  Another group would strip all the branches into a single long log.  Depending on the size of the branches some would be made into lumber, others used as firewood.  Nate took old sheets of thin metal and used hack saws to cut teeth into the sheets.  He then used files to sharpen the teeth, and attached wooden handles on both sides to make an eight-foot long wood saws.  He then made a “jig” to keep the saw straight while cutting the lumber out of the tree log.  Men would swap out as they tired from the effort of sawing a big log, giving the others well-deserved rest.  Another pair of men used files to sharpen the saws for maximum efficiency and swap them out when a saw became noticeably dull from the effort.

There were a number of carpenters in the market who used their trade in trade to build weather-tight small stalls along the main road.  Some of the carpenters would build a stall with no trade for some of those who could or did not have the resources on hand out of charity.  Some of those who could not trade for their work, offered credit in the form of food as harvest came in, handmade clothing, or their own skills.  To ensure people kept their “word,” they would go to Sean to tell him of the deal, he would enter the deal into a ledger he began to keep, they both would sign the deal and he would after them.  While one’s word was generally good in Four Corners, this backed it up and ensured fair trade in the market.

All of the carpenters used nails until all the nails had been used.  Then, they all got together with Nate to discuss how to solve their new problem.  One of the carpenters had been to Japan.  He took a tour of old temples and even some castles built with nothing so much as intricate wooden joinery that made dovetails look simple.  After much debate, they settled on a joint that would be strong, efficient and easy to construct.  Depending on the size of the structure, the main members would have to be larger to support both the cross members and the “skin” of the structure.  

With the lumber available, a group of carpenters could put up a small structure in a few hours. Even two or three a day.  

Dad and Jack have never ridden horses or were comfortable on them.  When Mr. Miller and Billy arrived at our house that morning with the horses for Rae and me, Dad and Jack had already left on foot at daybreak for the market.  We passed through East Gate giving our thanks to Tom and Collins and the others as we passed through, Tom, as always, noting on Rae and I “lovely presence,” with his flourishing bow of his ball cap.

Collins just said, “Good morning.”

Once out of earshot from East Gate, Rae leaned over to me and said, “I can’t decide if I am going to slap Tom or give him a kiss!” 

We rode up to Sean to find he had expanded from him simple “log,” at the four corners, to his own covered “shack.”  

A half dozen people were sitting on small logs before him, waiting to confirm a “deal.”  His banjo nowhere to be seen.

After we tied up the horses to the picket line behind his shack, with a few other horses from other owners, I shouted from behind the logs that were waiting on Sean, “Dad?”

“Nate,” he responded and hiked a thumb Southward.  

I nodded and gave him a thumbs-up in thanks. He did not respond as he addressed the next “deal.” Mr. Miller caught Sean’s eye and nodded, meaning he wanted to have a word with him. He took up an empty space on a log and chatted with the others.

I found Dad with Nate going over their drawings to build some kind of “mill” powered by the river for everything from lumber, to grain.  They kept going between three drawings and then penciling in for a new one, taking the best from the others.  Dad looked up to see I had arrived and gave me a quick smile.  Nate  gave a similar smile then they both went back to their intense discussion of how to build the mill.

Knowing Dad and Nate were in their engineering mindset, oblivious to everything around them  Rae, Billy and I set off into the market to trade.  That is when we heard someone shout, “Trouble at North Gate!”

Entry three

Word passed quickly through Four Corners by word of mouth. Someone would shout out what the issue was and where, and the next person who heard it would then repeat it.  

In less than thirty seconds, the whole market knew something was up.

People began running in all directions. It seemed to me that everyone should be heading for North Gate, but I later learned that Sean and the sheriff had assigned everyone to a gate in case an attack at one gate was a “distraction” from the real threat.

Having no assignment, Rae, Billy, and I ran for North Gate with others, unslinging our rifles as we went.  We arrived to find Jack and Samson already there in a rusted-out van that made up part of the Northern barrier.  Jack was looking through his binoculars through a broken-out window and, without looking at us, said, “Armed men on horseback.  I count fifty-three of them.  Wagons behind them.  This might be the group HAM guy heard about on the radio nets.”

A week or so ago, HAM Guy got reports of a cult-like group who claimed, in the name of God, to convert sinners to their religion.  It was some kind of weird mash-up of different religions.  There were snakes involved.  Those who did not convert were killed in a ritual, sacrificed, or taken as slaves.  Especially women or young girls.  HAM Guy heard one report they would even sacrifice young girls and boys, but he thought that was really “out there.”  Jack said he would not be shocked or surprised if they did.  

After what she had gone through when she was taken as a slave, Rae agreed with a cold look in her eyes.

Winded, Sean ran up to the van. “What is going on, Jack?”

Jack handed him the binoculars but kept his eyes on the men on horseback.  

“Fifty-three of them.  Armed.  Likely more in  the wagons behind them.”

“Think they will attack?”

“Unless there are many more of them in the wagons or they have heavy weapons we’re not seeing, no.  Be stupid to attack a fortified position like this.”

Then two men trotted their horses up, stopping just shy of the defensive trenches. One was dressed in all black, with a wide-brimmed hat and a white collar like a preacher. He held a book to his chest with what looked like a cross on it. He was surprisingly young.  

The other man wore a long-sleeved white button-up shirt tucked into black pants.  He was older, with a touch of gray in his short hair.  Both were clean-shaven. 

In a clear, commanding voice, the man in black announced, “I am the good reverend, Ishmael.  I lead the Children of Light, spreading the word of our Lord to all those we cross.  It was all our sins that turned us away from the face of our Lord.  Our hedonistic ways!  Our debauchery!  Turning from His Face, to technology for false salvation!  For our sins, He punished us by plunging us into darkness!  But not all is lost!  Just as it is the darkest before the dawn, a new day is here!  Lay down your arms, open your hearts, and welcome us to relieve you of your sins!”  He raised the book in one hand.  “It is our Lord’s will for me to show you the error of your ways!  To show you the righteous path!  To forgive you for your sins!  To show you the light of a new day!”

Those behind him, some bowed their heads.  A few cried out, “Amen!”

“I stand corrected,”  Jack said.  “They are not stupid.  Worse.  They are zealots.”

The reverend, Ishmael, held his bible up before us all along the Northern barrier like a talisman.  

“Well, I am the mayor,” Sean said.  “I suppose I should go out and talk with him.”

“I will go with you,” Jack said.

The two of them ducked out of the van, reached a narrow opening in the barrier, and walked up to the defensive trench, crossing the two men on horseback.

“I am Sean, mayor of Four Corners.  This is my good friend Jack.”

“Mayor, Jack,” Ishmael nodded.  “I have been sent by the good Lord to show you and the people of Four Corners the light of His word!  To forgive them of their sins!”

“I was raised as a good Irish Catholic.  I know the good Lord’s word.  But some may not be so inclined to your interpretation of the good Lord’s word.  Nor would I.”

Ishmael eyes hardened.  He leaned back in his saddle, holding the bible close to his chest.

“All need forgiveness for their sins.  I am here to give it.”

“Methinks they do not need your forgiveness.  They can do it themselves.”

Jack watched them and the other man closely.  He later said the reverend, Ishmael, and Sean then began to exchange a flurry of bible scriptures, each trying to one-up the other in their religious debate Jack could not follow.  Jack was never religious but, as he said, “After my first firefight, I became spiritual.”

Sean outmaneuvered Ishmael with script to the point that Ishmael got red in the face. The other man seemed to make a motion for his pistol, but Jack made a slight but equally meaningful motion with his rifle. Jack and the other man exchanged a long, hard look.  

Ishmael took notice and looked around, seeing how exposed they were to the Northern barrier.  He then leaned forward, “It is our Lord’s will that I shall bring forgiveness to you and the people.  Accept it or face His wrath!”  The two men then spun their horses around and galloped off.

Sean and Jack watched as they went.

“That went well,” Sean said ironically.

“We have a problem,” Jack responded.  “The gang was one thing.  These are true believers.  He is a religious leader but the other was a military tactician.  And a true believer.  That’s a dangerous combination.”

Sean turned and walked back to the Northern barrier, Jack next to him. “What do we do?”

“I don’t like it.  We may have to go on the offensicee.  I have always been one to defend a person’s freedom of religion even if I do not agree with that religion, but when it comes to someone forcing their religion on others, I cannot abide it.”

“Things are going to get ugly.”

“If Four Corners wants to survive, yes, it will.”

Diary, after Jack said about not being shocked or surprised and Rae agreed with that look in her eyes, I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach.

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.