Curtain Fall: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 1) (24 page)

They heard someone coming down the stairs and Jenna quickly pulled away. She went into the powder room to dry her face, and John took a seat at the table, claiming the chair recently vacated by Jenna. He just managed to lift the newspaper when Adam walked in.

“Good morning Adam, ready to get to work?” asked John.

“Morning, dad. Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Good, we have a lot to do today. I figured we’d start in the back . . . at least until the stores open,” said John.

“What are we gonna do in the back?”

“Figure out a way to cover the pool.”

“Oooookaaaay,” was Adam’s characteristically uncommitted reply.

John held a folded nylon tarp loosely in his hands while he and Adam appraised the large and neatly stacked pile of firewood along the back fence. He had about two cords cut, split, and ready for the fireplace, or the outdoor fire pit. Much of it was oak, but the pile also contained cedar and elm, with the latter being less than desirable for fireplace burning because it tended to smoke a lot. John didn’t mind the assortment, as it was meant for one purpose, and one purpose only, and that was to heat their home and cook their food when disaster struck.

For kindling, John relied on scraps of untreated pine lumber left over from various building projects, such as his deer stand. He’d chop the small pieced lengthwise, and toss the slivers into a barrel he kept in the shop. All in all, John figured he had enough firewood to provide for his family for at least a year.

“We need more tarps,” said John, after he and Adam unfolded the one in John’s hands. They pulled it tight and saw that it would barely cover one-third of the stack.

“Or a bigger one,” said Adam, as they began to refold the tarp.

“Large tarps are expensive. Besides, I’d rather use more of the smaller ones so we can use them for other stuff when we deplete the stack,” replied John.

“How are you going to tie them down?” asked Adam.

“Rope. I don’t want to use all my bungee-cords on the wood pile.”

“Will the ash damage the wood?” asked Adam, as he tapped the pile with a hand.

“I don’t think so, but I think it will be easier to get to if we cover it. Besides, I want to cover it more for the rain than anything. It’s already sat out too long. It’s dry enough now to cover,” said John, as he slipped the folded tarp under his arm. “Let’s go look at the pool.”

“Don’t we already have a cover for it?” asked Adam.

“Yeah, but it’s not enough to protect the water, and I have plans for that water,” replied John.

Adam asked, “What kind of plans?”

“Adam, are you going to question everything I’m doing?” asked John, slightly irritated with Adam’s curiosity.

“You’re the one that taught me to be curious, dad,” quipped Adam.

“You’re right. Sorry for snapping at you. It’s just that we have a lot to do and I’m still sorting everything out in my head,” replied John, and he let the apology hang for a moment before continuing the conversation. “We’ll need the pool water, and I need to come up with a way to cover it. I was hoping you could help me there, too.”

Adam stood near the pool and asked, “More tarps or bigger tarps?”

“I’m thinking bigger tarps for the pool. I want as few as possible. I don’t know how the ash will fall, but I don’t want too many open seams,” replied John.

Adam shook his head and walked around the edge of the pool. It was an asymmetrical design, almost kidney-shaped in pattern, but with a spa on the shallow end. The deep end was just over six feet, which meant the pool held about 18,000 gallons. John knew it would be an excellent source of clean water if they could find a way to cover it well enough to protect it from the ash.

John watched as Adam assumed another appraising stance near the end of the pool. “So, what do you think?” asked John. “Any ideas?”

Adam nodded and said, “You said the ash would be heavier than snow, right?”

“Yup, about ten times as much,” replied John, “Which is why we can’t go flat. The weight of the ash would bear the tarp down, into the water. I think we can leave the mesh cover on as a backup, but I don’t think it will make a difference,” added John, as he scratched his chin.

“So we need to build some kind of frame then,” said Adam.

“Right. I was thinking about a teepee, or maybe two teepees . . . or maybe make two tripod frames, and then run a center line across the middle, you know, like building an A-frame house. We can secure the tarps over it . . . and the ash shouldn’t accumulate.”

“Yeah,” said Adam with another nod. “We could make it like one of the Scout rope bridges we made last year at Scout Camp. That thing was really strong. We all stood on it, remember?” asked Adam.

John nodded and said, “I like it.”

“But why don’t you just put the poles in the pool . . . in the water I mean . . . like a real bridge support? I think it’ll be much stronger that way,” finished Adam.

“I was thinking that, but the size of poles we need for that construction would be pressure treated. They’d be loaded with chemicals and potentially contaminate the water. Besides . . . wood floats.”

“Really, dad? Wood floats? Wow, I never knew,” grunted Adam.

John looked at Adam and grinned, “What can I say? I’m a master at stating the obvious.”

“Why don’t we use PVC pipe?” asked Adam. “You know . . . the big fat ones? We could anchor them to the lawn with rope, and then hang the tarps over the top to make like a big tent.”

“Adam, you’re a genius,” replied John. Adam beamed at John’s compliment, and the two moved on to the next item of business, or where to dig the fuel and generator pits.

John didn’t want the fuel too close to the house, or the shop for that matter. After pacing the yard several times, he settled on a spot between the house and the shop.

“I think we can dig here without upsetting your mom,” said John. He then dragged his boot heal through the sod to roughly mark out a four-foot by five-foot triangle.

“We’ll need to dig it at least three feet deep, line it with landscape cloth, and then dump a couple bags of gravel in for the bottom,” said John, as he stood in the middle of the yet undug hole.

“What about a cover?”

“A sheet of three-quarter-inch pressure treated plywood should do the trick,” replied John.

“Where do you want to put the generator?” asked Adam.

John grunted and said, “The generator that we don’t have? That’s a good question.” He looked around the yard and settled on a spot under a tree which was also between the shed and the house. He stood under the tree and looked up, trying to predict the effects of the ash on the bare limbs above.

“I don’t know,” said John.

“Can’t you just put it in the shop?” asked Adam. “I mean, we could run an extension cord from the garage to the house, right? And it would be inside, so you wouldn’t have to worry about covering it.”

“It’d be quieter in there, too,” said John. “But the problem is ventilation. We’d have to vent the exhaust. We can’t chance poisoning ourselves with carbon-monoxide, and I’m sure we’ll be going in and out of the shop often. The shop’s also our entrance to the shelter.”

Adam’s eyes lit up at the mention of the shelter, and he asked, “Can we go there next?”

“It’s in the plan, but not till we make our trip to Costco,” replied John as they walked together back to the shop.

While Adam fiddled around with John’s shop tools, John looked for a potential place to set up a generator. He stood next to the cast-iron stove and said, “I think this will work, but we’ll have to pick up some metal flex-hose. I think maybe I can run an exhaust line from the generator and out through the wall . . . here,” said John as he pointed, but
apparently talking to himself because Adam was distracted by John’s bench grinder.

“We could bring a carbon-monoxide alarm out, too” said Adam, surprising John with his attention, and his idea.

“Yes. Good idea,” said John, “If the alarm’s going off then we’ll know to vent the shop before we go in. That’s good thinking . . . and please be careful with that thing,” finished John, as he watched Adam grind away at a large nail, which sent a shower of sparks to the floor at his feet. A moment later, Adam dropped the nail to the floor and rubbed his fingertips.

“It gets hot, don’t it?” asked John. Adam shrugged and smiled. “You OK?”

“I’m good.”

“Yes . . . you are,” replied John. And Adam beamed at his father’s compliments and even seemed to stand a little taller.

As they walked back to the house, John gave Adam a list of things he wanted accomplished while he was gone. He said, “The rain cistern is less than half full, so take the hose over and fill it up as high as it will go. We may not get any rain for quite a while, so I want to use it for water storage. Be sure to close it off when you’re done.”

When John reached the back door, he looked at Adam and said, “And while the cistern is filling up, get started on the fuel pit. When I get back with mom, you and I will go to the lumber store to get the rest of the materials we need. Can you handle that?”

“Sure dad . . . not a problem.”

“If you have a question while I’m gone . . . just text me. We’ll be busy at Costco, but I’ll reply ASAP.”

Adam nodded, so John continued, “Mom will give Abby work to do inside, so don’t worry . . . or bother her, unless she needs your help.” John got his son to look him in the eyes before adding, “And Adam?”

“Yes, dad?”

“Don’t talk to anyone about what we’re doing, okay?”

“Sure dad.”

John wasn’t sure Adam understood the ramifications of his request, so he asked, “Do you understand why I want to keep this work quiet?”

“Because you don’t want people to think we’re nuts.”

“Just like your old man,”
thought John,
“. . . cut right through the chase.”
John nodded and said, “Actually, it’s more about security, but family credibility is something I’d like to maintain a little while longer.” John sighed and said, “I don’t have proof the eruption is going to happen. Everything is a hunch . . . about a feeling I have. It’s a strong feeling, but it’s still just a feeling. Most people can’t buy into feelings when it comes to something so serious. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I think so,” replied Adam, “But why can’t I tell Cheryl?”

John considered his son’s interest for including Cheryl in the discussion and asked, “OK, and what would you tell her?”

“I don’t know. I’d tell her to get ready I guess,” replied Adam.

“Ready for what?” replied John, a bit more sharply than he intended.

Adam picked up on John’s sharpness and became defensive. “The end of the world, for one,” said Adam with defiance, then his shoulders slumped and he buried his hands in his pockets.

“So much for making good headway into self-confidence,”
thought John. “Adam,” said John, as he rested his hands on Adam’s shoulders, “I understand your concern for Cheryl, but would you put her wellbeing over the safety and security of your own family?”

“I’m not saying I’d invite her over,” quipped Adam. “I just want to . . . you know . . . give her a chance or something.”

“And what do you think she would do with that chance . . . with that information? Do you think her parents would listen to her, and then go out and spend a couple thousand dollars on food . . . based solely on the recommendation of a boyfriend?” asked John, as he squeezed Adam’s shoulders tenderly.

John closely studied his son’s face. He didn’t want to push Adam beyond his limits, but he did want to assess his son’s loyalty to Cheryl. John felt it was important to hear from Adam, to learn whether his son was more committed to his family, or to Cheryl. It was a hard challenge
he placed on his son’s shoulders, and he hoped he could handle it. He just wanted Adam to consider the big-picture, and that their very survival could depend on it.

John was about to add that Cheryl was one of a thousand girls he would likely meet during his life, but then Adam looked him in the eye and said, “No. Probably not. I just don’t like leaving her . . . hanging and all.”

“I understand,” said John, as he released Adam. “If I knew people would believe me I’d tell them myself, but I’m operating on little more than a gut feeling here.”

“But I . . .”

“But it’s a gut feeling built on experience,” interrupted John. Actually, it’s more than just a gut feeling. I really do know it’s going to happen, I just can’t prove it. But if I could, I’d be on the news right now . . . telling everyone to prepare.”

While John let his words sink in, he recalled the previous night’s dream. The screams of the voices in the audience after the curtain came down really affected him. Then there was the little boy, his unborn grandson. He literally told John there was nothing he could do to help the people. Still, he wondered, was everyone a part of that audience? Could Cheryl be included in their family? John knew there was security in numbers, but he wasn’t prepared to address the issue with his son’s girlfriend, or her family that he didn’t even know.

“I just thought a little warning . . . that’s all,” said Adam.

John took a deep breath and continued, “For most people it’s already too late. If they’re not already prepared then it’s too late to make a difference.”