The Days After (Big River) Read online

  “Sounds great to me, Sugar. We can talk about this more this evening. Louis and I have first watch. Later...” She pulled her hair up off her neck and tied the scarf around, went down the stairs.

  ***

  The doors on each side of the cabin were swung open and some of the windows. As the sun had set, a bit of a breeze, cooled by the water drifted through the room. Louis and Penny got ready for their turn at watch. Jacob came from the bathroom, where he had been ordered to brush his teeth. With the toothbrush, still in his hand, he said, “Where's Allie? Allie!....I hear her crying.”

  Angel looked around, “Allie! Where are you honey?” She walked out the starboard door and spotted her, up on her tip toes to see over the rail, her small hands clasped tightly on the posts. Her mother put her hand on her daughter's shoulders, “What's wrong? Are you crying..are you hurt?”

  Her frowning face turned to her mother, “No, Mommy...” one finger pointed to the shore, “She is crying. Don't you hear her? She is so sad.”

  Angel knelt beside her, “Oh sweetie, must have been an animal. You know how birds or animals make noises at night? There's no one there, no one is crying.” She hugged her.

  Clay came up beside them, “It's just those night animals, little bit. They roam around when it gets dark and sing songs to find each other.” She didn't look convinced, her mother picked her up and took her into the cabin. Clay stayed for a while and scanned the shore and listened.

  Jacob had finished his teeth brushing, he stood in some shorts and a sleeveless undershirt. “What's the matter with you, goof-ball? Booger bears after you?” he laughed.

  Allie looked back outside and didn't smile, “I heard...I mean, I thought...Captain Clay said it was just night animals.”

  “Okey-dokey, good night. Don't let the bed bugs bite,” he slapped her arm as he passed by.

  Angel pulled the cot next to her bed and the mother and daughter fell asleep holding hands. Four hours later, Allie was sound asleep when her mother slipped out to take her watch turn. The two guards made the rounds and passed a few times. Once, Clay stopped and asked, “Allie go to sleep okay?”

  “Yeah, she did. I don't think she ever really accepted the animal explanation,” she said.

  Clay said, “Well, she is a pretty smart kid and this world is probably damn scary for a little girl, these days.”

  With a soft laugh, Angel said, “It's pretty scary for a big girl.” She moved on, touched his arm as she moved past.

  No hint of light yet, but Clay knew it soon would be pink on the horizon. On his trip up to the top level, he went to the viewer again. In the area of the town, on their western shore, he could see just a pinpoint of light in three or four places and what looked like fires in a spot or two. The town wasn't deserted. As he scanned the other shore, he saw more lights. He thought it was in the area of the bridge that he spotted earlier. He stared in the scope, the lights seemed to pulse and they whizzed around like fireflies. He actually moved his eyes away from the viewer to see if there were fireflies in the air, he saw none. What he did see was a misty smoky cloud that floated across the water up ahead. Then, very faint, the crying sound. He jumped as Angel came to the top of the stairs and said, “Clay?”

  He turned, feeling a bit silly and scolded himself, Come on man, this is just normal stuff...animals, fog, lights. “Did you hear that, Clay? Had to be the noise, the...animal that Allie heard. Have to admit, it was pretty creepy. Bless her heart.”

  A little involuntary shiver ran up his spine, “I agree...creepy. I don't think the town is going to be deserted. It's time for us to get moving. Let's get this done and move past this place.” By that time, Louis had come up top. Angel went to get the kids secure and set up her position.

  Just as Louis had said, the city was no place to be in these times. As they rolled along the waterway, the town was eerily intact and nearly normal looking in areas. The stopped cars, the fires and the total absence of activity told the real story. A few figures skulked around and darted out of sight. Other than one raggedy man who squatted to do a private function at the edge of the river, no one was interested in what happened on the water. The sun peeped up and light began to wash across the sad and dangerous landscape. The smell that emanated out from the shore was putrid and sickening. The Annie glided under the long bridge that spanned the river and they slowly moved away from the main part of the city.

  Louis gave his whistle, signaling that the watchers down below could relax a bit. Clay was relieved, yet surprised that they seemed to have made it through. It had been about a month since the event. Had so many people already died, were they sick, had they given up? It must be nothing short of hell on the land. Would or could America ever recover from this.

  They were perhaps three miles past the city and the river took a wide turn. Clay saw a fire up ahead on the eastern shore. Very early morning, the smoke spiraled straight up into a clear sky. As they neared, they could see what seemed to be a family around a campsite. A man, a woman and four children from about Jacob's age and younger, moved around the clearing next to the water. There was a tent and firewood stacked up, some clothing hung on a line. A large cast iron pot swung over the fire. The man leaned on his rifle, he did not threaten with it as the paddle wheeler came to a halt in the center of the river.

  “Hel-lo-o,” shouted Clay, waved from the top level. “We are travelers, can we come ashore?”

  The man waved back and returned the shout, “You be welcome!”

  The four looked out from the boat with curiosity. “They look okay, don't you think? Just a family,” said Angel.

  Penny studied the shore, “They look a little primitive. Why don't you and Clay go in first, they may not like black folks.” This time, Louis gave her an exasperated look. It was not a bad idea though, for someone to stay with the children and boat, until the situation was checked out. She and Angel went to the storage and placed some items, including a jar of their treasured cookies in a basket.

  Clay and Angel took the basket and eased across the river in the small boat to the campsite. “Welcome friends,” the bearded man with suspenders and a plain cotton shirt extended his hand.

  Angel held the basket out to the woman, “We thought you might could use this.”

  “Thank you,” said the woman. The word quaint came to Angel's mind. The woman wore a long print dress and an apron. There were twins, a girl and a boy about Jacob's age. The girl and her two little sisters wore the same as the mother and the young boy wore the suspenders and simple shirt like his dad. On the fire was a heavy skillet, nothing cooked there or in the large pot.

  The man looked out at the boat and said, “Where you headed? Taking your friends to safety?”

  The captain followed the man's look to the paddle wheeler, Louis and Penny stood at the rail. “We are going a long ways up river, trying to reach my brother. We are trying to all get to safety.”

  “Good, that's good, son. You're doing a good thing. I wish we had something to help you along, but we ain't got much here,” said the man and patted Clay on the back.

  “Where are you and the family from?” asked Clay.

  “Oh, pretty far away...far away,” said the man. They young boy scraped a stick across the dirt and drew in the damp soil.

  Angel stepped next to him and said, “Hey, what cha' drawing?”

  He looked at her, but didn't answer. She looked at the ground, it looked liked a hangman's noose. Can't be, he's just a young boy. Probably something I can't see. Even though it was warm, a slight chill tingled on her arms.

  Something just felt a bit odd here, not one modern thing lurked. The tent was an old canvas and wood style, the family's clothing was certainly not new fashion, a quilt that Penny would covet spread on the ground and the two youngest children played the slap hands, clap and slap your legs and chanted a sing song,

  If you'll be M-I-N-E mine,

  I'll be T-H-I-N-E thine,

  And I'll L-O-V-E love you

  All t
he T-I-M-E time

  The man's weapon was a quite vintage Springfield rifle. Clay recognized the gun because he had one that he treasured, it had been passed down through his family, was carried in the Civil War and his father had given it to him. Only a collector would want a Springfield rifle. It was a single shot, muzzle-loading gun with a percussion cap firing mechanism, it fired a Minie' ball. The Springfield was the last muzzle loading rifle that was ever adopted by the US Army. That gun was an antique, a wall hanger, not a practical weapon for today.

  There was moment of rather awkward silence. The fire crackled, the whisper of a breeze blew across the campsite. L-O-V-E love you...all the T-I-M-E time, slap-clap went the small hands. Angel just stood still and quiet, the “gift” basket sat at the woman's feet. Clay couldn't seem to get the Civil War photos that he had seen in the old encyclopedias from his mind. When he had researched his own vintage rifle, he came across the Civil War section and was fascinated by the history. He knew it was his imagination, but the whole scene around them even seemed to have that brown, sepia tint of the old photos. He turned and looked back towards the paddle wheeler, Louis had not left the rail, he raised his hand to Clay.

  The man said, “Don't worry, Son. We mean you and your friends no harm. We are abolitionists.”

  With a dull voice, the woman said, “Slavery is evil, the devils work.”

  M-I-N-E mine, slap-clap.

  Angel and Clay locked eyes, her amber orbs were big and questioning. They both stepped backwards slowly, “Well, friends. We wish you well, we will be on our way now.” There were no more words exchanged and the small boat moved away from the shore, back to the Annie Belle. The frozen vignette faded.

  Back on the paddle wheeler, Clay said, “I want to head out, Louis. When we are moving again, come up top and I will fill you in on that little visit.” He couldn't seem to manage a smile. “Angel...?”

  “Sure, let's get going. We can all talk later. Penny and I have things to do,” she answered.

  The paddles pushed the boat up the wide river once again, the Captain at the helm. Angel and Penny went to the rail and looked at the landscape behind them. Angel shaded her eyes from the morning sun, she couldn't see the campsite or even smoke from the fire any longer. She looked at Penny, “We must have gone around a corner, I can't see the family on the shore. Can you?”

  Penny put both hands across her brow, squinted to see, “No, I can't see a thing.”

  Chapter Seven

  Away

  They were away and Clay was glad. They should have several days ahead, away from stinking big cities. He made a very brief contact again with Dan and was able to get him the message, We are okay and we are still making our way there. He longed for the haven of his brother's farm. This last incident, the last seventy five miles or so, had been very unsettling to him. He would spend several days trying to convince his mind of logical explanations for the eerie happenings.

  The day that they had left the odd family, on the shore just north of Jefferson City, Louis had came up to the control hut. Clay told him his recounting of the visit with the people on the shore, as accurately as he could, tried to just lay it out there and see what his friend had to say.

  “Abolitionists?!” said Louis. “Well, that definitely steps over into spookyville. Remember the stories we read about the ghost legends? The newspaper and your book mentioned the tale of the family of Abolitionist that were hung on the old bridge. I even remember that there were young twins in the family.”

  “I know,” said Clay, looking straight ahead at the river.

  Louis shrugged, “Well, look...Perhaps that family was living a simple life in the first place, maybe this disaster pushed them a bit over the edge. You know, maybe they have gone a bit looney. And that community that had been storm ravaged, the folks probably just got up and left after the original event. Lights...fog....an animal crying on the shore...all of that could have been from normal causes.”

  “Maybe,” said Clay.

  “You know me, Boss. I am a pretty no nonsense guy. I admit to you, this has been a damn creepy stretch of river. No doubt, things happen in the world that we can't always understand. Today, in this world that we are trying to navigate...well, who knows. I prefer to think that it was just a series of odd things and if you pick them apart, they are explainable.”

  Clay adjusted his cap and his sunglasses, “I am sure you are right, my friend.” He shot him a smile. It would be days, however, before he really actually convinced himself that the encounters had just been coincidence. It would take time and distance. He listened every night for the chilling cry of the unknown animal, they never heard it again. He remembered the look on Allie's face, she wanted and needed to trust him and her mother. Somehow, he knew that she knew, it was no animal that cried in the night. There was no comfort when he tried to apply the reasonable explanation. If it wasn't a ghost, if it wasn't an animal, then what poor soul cried from the shore? That haunted him more than any of the other incidents along the disturbing miles of the Missouri.

  ***

  Finally, the heavy uneasy feeling lifted from Clay. His mind got back to the need to find something to cook on, outside of the cabin. The heat settled in and they had been either eating cold food or cooked on the fish cooker each day. He knew they would very soon be completely out of fuel for inside and the cooker. As the shoreline appeared to be less inhabited, he and Louis also made plans to do some hunting. The last month had been proof, the miles could not be covered consistently and quickly. They had over four hundred miles ahead of them. If that distance should be covered in two weeks, then he could count on it taking four. Eating cold beans and wienies for that long was something he didn't relish.

  One afternoon, they had a discussion. Clay said, “Do any of you think you could clean and prepare some game? It's been a lot of years, I did help my dad and my uncle field dress a deer. I believe that I could do it. Venison would be great, but I have been thinking that smaller game, rabbits, squirrels, birds might be easier for us to handle.”

  Angel tried to keep her nose from wrinkling up, “I have never prepared game before, if someone would show me, I am certainly willing to help. I don't know if I am a good enough shot to hunt.”

  “No worries. I bet between the four of us, we can get something dead and cooked,” Penny's pleasant laugh trilled. “I think that we ought to look for that fuel and bar-b-que pit first, if possible.”

  Louis said, “We have passed some small towns, they seemed mostly abandoned. Maybe we could check out one. Old bar-b-ques could be in numerous places, yards, parks, even cafes. If we got real lucky a new one might be left at a hardware store. We need to look for filled propane bottles and even charcoal.”

  “We have lots of access to wood, if we have to we can build a wood fire in a pit. It means we need to try to find a pretty good and heavy pit, though,” said Clay. “Just like using the fish cooker, we have to be careful not to burn down our home, here.”

  The river carried them under the interstate highway, as far as they could see, empty cars lined up on the major thoroughfare. One thing that was very consistent, big cities, small towns or no towns... fires. Fires burned and smoldered, some were deliberate because people needed them and some were caused by the fires of necessity. For all these miles, there had not been even one day when distant or near smoke wasn't visible. The few scattered fires of the next small town now came into view. Clay was apprehensive, they hoped to go ashore there.

  Boonville nestled right on the river, it had been named after the sons of Daniel Boone who had come to the area in the early 1800's and started a salt business. Clay also knew from an advertisement once during a beer sponsored football game, that somewhere west of the small town was a ranch where the Budweiser Clydesdales were raised. They anchored down the Annie. He scanned the shoreline, the ever present fires burned and a figure could be seen here and there hustling around on the shore. A person sat at the end of a pier that reached out into the river and fished
.

  As the speedboat took Clay and Louis towards the shore, they could see that the fisherman had on military fatigues. His heavy combat boots, the color of sand sat beside him and his bare feet dangled above the water. A rifle was slung to his back. Behind sunglasses and beneath a cap, his skin was a shade darker than Louis's and he was at least ten years younger than the two, maybe about twenty five years old. He had a cane pole and a cork popped up and down on the water. As Louis tied off the small boat, the young man looked up and said, “Hey, man.”

  From the boat, Louis said, “Hello. Hope we didn't spoil your fishing.”

  “No problem, not getting any bites,” he said.

  Not close enough to extend a hand, Louis said, “This is Clay and I am Louis.”

  “Nice to meet you, I'm Willie,” he responded.

  It was quiet, just the slapping of the water. Clay looked around the shore, “Is the army here?”

  The young man gave a bitter laugh, “No, the Ar-my is a bit disorganized at this time.”

  “Have they declared Martial Law? What about aid and rescue...any of that being sent out?” Louis asked the young man.

  Willie said, “Yeah, they declared Martial Law. Of course, there's not any communications for the citizens to get the message. There were some aid trucks, water and rations being deployed, after about a week. They started with the big cities, they were such a mess and folks already getting hungry, looting...it got ugly.”

  Louis said, “Where were you, Willie?”

  “Well, I was stationed over at Fort Campbell in Kentucky. They had sent us out down to St. Louis. It was bad there, real bad. After about a week, we had handed out all of our supplies. Lots of us guys became more and more worried about our own families and you know...” the man's eyes looked away, “I just couldn't shoot my own people, Americans. They were desperate. Anyways, lots of us just walked away, left.”