January 15, 2011
~*~ AF ~*~
If you told Abraham even a month ago that they would cover over five hundred miles in a week, he would have thought it a sad joke. He can't even lay the blame at Eugene's feet for the admitted delays in their route, because Tim and Honey both admit similar surprise. But the mountain route was a good choice. Few people jammed onto those highways, and the few times something did block their way without any keys present, the reinforced bumper on the M35 relocated it.
He can tell none of them are resting easy even with the two months' worth of food and water along for the ride, because when they have had to stop, they've stripped the vehicles and any nearby buildings of everything of potential use. Going home won't be as fast, with more bodies to keep safe and mouths to feed, but at least they'll be fresh instead of road weary.
The big, overdone signs for Shirewilt Estates are just ahead on the right. He's never liked the exclusive, gated communities, but he admits that nowadays, they're prime real estate in ways their builders never intended. They're west and a little north of Richmond itself, in one of the many suburbs of the city. Noah explained that the community borders the James River on one side, which is why most of the residents stayed. They just reinforced the fence and made sure it went all the way to the water's edge. It's similar to how part of Homestead is set up, although the Dixons don't rely solely on the Etowah for protection the way these folks seem to do the James.
The once pristine and expensive gates are boarded over. No one wants open wrought iron these days. What disturbs Abraham from a security standpoint is twofold: the community is right on a road that was fairly well traveled back during civilization, and there's no sign of a guard. He hopes these folks managed to keep the security cameras he can see going, but Noah isn't optimistic when he asks.
They park in the middle of the main road, letting Noah and his father get out to approach the gate. Michael bangs on the boarded-up structure and looks disgruntled as he examines it. Noah produces a set of keys, much like the ones most of Homestead's team leaders have for the various gates, and proceeds to climb the wrought iron exterior. He perches atop the brick gate post for a minute, being careful like he's been taught at Homestead. He takes the grapple hook from his vest and carefully hooks it on the outside of the gate before using the thin rope to descend out of sight.
A minute later, the gates open to a frowning teenager who retrieves his grapple hook and rope before walking with his father back to the waiting vehicles. "I can't believe there's no one reacting to us being at the gate. I guess they ran out of fuel for the generators to keep the electric going, but it wouldn't be that hard to station a guard up here. All this fence keeps out is walkers and animals."
Abraham thinks it over. There are no signs of walkers, which is good, and sitting idling like it is, the M35 engine is definitely an attractant when they need to know if an area is infested. Tim slides out of the rear driver's side of the dually and walks back. "Not sure I want to take the vehicles in til we know for sure it's still their people in here."
It's a reality everyone knows these days. Just because Noah's key still works in the padlock doesn't mean the residents are still the same. Terminus is a lesson they never want to experience again.
He keys the handhelds they carry for group communication. "Gear up with body armor too. Tim, take Noah, so any natives know you're friendly, and he's more able than Michael. Honey, Elias, and Augustus too. Christopher and Danny, see if you can raise Homestead on radio." This morning they made contact, but it was sporadic and static-filled.
Honey and Elias exit the bus, with Andrea sliding out of his passenger seat to run back and take the driver seat of the bus. It's not a method he thought to use on the trip up from Texas, but the driver doesn't leave the vehicle stance works well. Danny climbs into the back of the dually, raising the radio antenna up. The four designated to enter the gated community simply tug off their vests to don the tan body armor vests over their BDUs, and the big dog is already wearing his protective gear. It takes them from looking like they might be on a redneck hunting trip to looking military, although the combat vests going back on softens it a little to his eyes. They drop helmets over their balaclavas, although at least no one has to add extra weaponry. Even seventeen-year-old Noah is already well-armed.
Once throat mics are all in place, Tim leads his small team into the neighborhood. They've all studied the map Noah drew from memory, so now it's just a matter of hoping the folks behind these walls are the same ones the Fisher men left behind.
The half-grown dog left behind stays on alert even as he reaches out to scratch his ears. This has been a training trip for Oso, learning from Augustus about an entirely different way of life than the hunting work the dogs were bred for. He's glad to have them both along, because he thinks having dogs along on his own trip would have made life a lot safer.
~*~ CP ~*~
Carol looks around the kitchen at her assembled helpers and smiles. Merle's forty-seventh birthday was two days ago, on the thirteenth, but with Christian's birthday on the seventeenth, he asked to split the difference and share a birthday meal with the baby. It makes sense, especially since the baby's not likely to remember the event, but the proud grandfather will.
She's ever so grateful for the root cellars that the Eldridges had the foresight to dig, because their farm was set up to sell larger quantities to Atlanta area restaurants and farmers markets. Even their community of two hundred or so can't eat everything in season if it's not stored, and although they canned and freeze dried in quantities that make Carol still boggle at, being able to store some of the vegetables - and the bushels upon bushels of apples - was an amazing time saver. She knows their root cellars are far more high-tech than those of the original European settlers of Georgia, with thermometers, hygrometers, and ventilation systems to regulate temperature.
She's also learned a lot, such as apples need to be stored separately from the vegetables because they'll cause them to go bad faster and that many vegetables need to be stored in sand. It means the kids who go on retrieval duty for the kitchens treat about half the task as a treasure hunt with the big, flat sandboxes on shelving.
It also means that when she asked Merle about the menu, he just shrugged and said whatever needs to be used up. She honestly suspects after a childhood of food deprivation and time spent deployed with the Marines, the man would literally eat anything set in front of him, and other than a strong preference for the peppermint tea his kids inherited, he doesn't have any real favorites.
Shane's crockpot of cabbage rolls is already present, brought up about an hour ago and not quite finished cooking. He volunteered, saying he wanted to teach Anaya. She suspects the recipe is a family one, much like the cake recipe he gave her for his wedding.
Jazz brought her up a freshly dressed lamb yesterday, so she spent a lot of study time figuring out how to cook the various cuts of meat, although realistically, about half of it went into the freezer downstairs. Thankfully, the big grill outside comes in handy, even if Daryl is doing a bit of a shiver dance out there checking on the chops and flank steaks. The crown rack is nearly done, so she checks on the rest of the menu, all in other people's hands.
Sophia and Beth are very carefully icing a multi-layered cake they've dubbed their "Neapolitan" by topping a strawberry sheetcake first a chocolate sheetcake and then vanilla. The entertaining part of their careful creation is that they're trying to ice the giant cake to look like the ice cream it's inspired by. Snow gathered from the snowstorm earlier in the week was made into ice cream just for tonight to go with the cake.
Jazz is glazing rutabagas and carrots in two big cast iron skillets to produce enough for the crowd. Bringing in the Dixons and 'adjacent Dixons', as Honey dubs them, means a crowd that Carol still sometimes has to blink about the size of it. She checks on the lentils bubbling away in the mushroom gravy and hopes what feels like an odd combination to her tastes as good as it smells. Nothing that's come out of Jazz's purple recipe binder has failed to taste lovely so far, so she's looking forward to the new experience.
That probably applies to the sweet potato biscuits in the second oven as well, although those were Maggie's contribution.
She hopes the baby enjoys the food part of the evening too, although typically, if a food is on his mothers' plates or Merle's, he'll find it tasty. He's a sweet baby and Carol enjoys spending time with him, but he's definitely a grandpa's boy.
"Everything smells so good in here it makes me wish I could cook," Amy comments.
Carol turns and smiles. "Well, if you want to learn, you have your pick of teachers."
"Maybe offer some classes down at the center?" she suggests. "I'm sure I wasn't the only one who lived on cups of noodles and anything else the microwave could produce. The big meals are nice and convenient, but it'd be nice to be able to be more than veggie prep on days like today."
Carol consults her mental calendar and realizes that although it's in June, she imagines Amy might like to help cook Jamie's birthday meal when the time comes. Maybe Dale's too, since that's sooner.
"Let me look at the schedule and talk to our resident cooks and see who all might volunteer a free afternoon here and there. It's a good suggestion."
~*~ AF ~*~
Abraham has to wait for Christopher to translate, although from the expression the nurse and Danny both wear, Honey's said something derogatory in her mother's native tongue.
The blonde laughs, but shakes his head. "Loosely translated, she says it's a good thing God looks after fools and young children, because otherwise, these people wouldn't still be alive. But Noah's family's here, so we're clear to move in."
Michael Fisher looks relieved enough to cry, and Abraham can't blame him. He's been away from his wife and younger sons for months and nearly died of a disease barely known in the modern world. He's surprised the man was so patient about being held outside the gates.
"Let Homestead know." Whatever interference occurred earlier passed or they routed around, because the signal was clear as Tim's group departed. "Load up and head in. I'll bring up the rear and lock the gate behind us."
Danny waits in the back of the dually long enough for Christopher to relay the message and that they'll do their usual report at nightfall. He lowers the antenna and displays the limberness of youth by dropping into the passenger rear seat through the window.
Christopher leads the way down the long lane into the community. Either side of the road is set up as a park and sports area, similar to other planned communities like this that Abraham's seen before. Those areas are overgrown now, with no homeowner's association paying a groundskeeper. He sighs. Open area like that should have been turned into a garden, but he doubts many of these folks have that sort of skill, unless it's with flowers. The road forks into three as they see their first houses.
At least it's not one of the cookie cutter McMansion places. There's a good variety in housing style, both one and two-story, and each house has at least an acre around it. They come to a stop five houses down on the right-hand road, where their own people wait alongside six others. Augustus is sitting relaxed at Honey's feet.
Before he steps out of truck, he waits for Tim's signal, trusting the ex-sniper's Army-trained paranoia most.
"Why dontcha come say hello, Abraham?" Tim calls out.
He's proud that neither of the other drivers exit without that greeting too.
Introductions go easy enough. Paula and thirteen-year-old twins Jacob and Mark Fisher are all overwhelmed by the return of family members thought gone forever. They're joined by neighbors from the left side of their house, Tiffany and Jennifer Morris, and the neighbor from across the street, Corey Mitchell.
They've adapted more than he thought here, even if they aren't utilizing maximum space. He can see evidence amid the nearly gone snow that suburban lawn was turned into family-sized gardens, at least. Paula Fisher even has an outdoor kitchen built in the remains of her front yard. It seems to be shared with the nearest neighbors.
As Paula invited them in to get out of the crisp winter air, Abraham assigns Andrea and Danny to watch. The bus is adapted with a solar powered heater like an RV, so a camp chair by the rear door serves as a watch post. Andrea pops in without even a grimace. Danny slides into the driver's seat of the dually, well used to watch shifts from prior months on the road. With the solar powered batteries mounted in the truck bed, he can even run the tiny portable heater in the cab without burning through fuel.
"It's quite safe here," one of the neighbors says.
He shrugs, trying not to let his critical opinion of the fact that none of them are carrying so much as a knife show. "Procedure is procedure. Keeps us alive."
Although puzzled, they accept what they see as an eccentricity.
Even inside, he's assessing the layout and exits, as do the others. Even Noah shows an awareness he didn't expect in the boy's own home. As Michael summarizes the time away, he does see a little wariness appear, but it's the sort he's used to from people with protected lives. Surely such awful things won't happen to them, not here.
The selfish side of him sort of hopes only the Fishers agree to go back to Georgia. This looks like a lot of babysitting to come.
~*~ MD ~*~
Merle grins at the huge slab of cake on the plate Sophia is presenting. He's glimpsed the girls' creation due to the open floor plan, but apparently, his birthday means he gets a slice big enough to qualify as its own cake.
Then again, he does have a cake eating buddy, because they're sticking a single sparkler candle in the cake. Christian squeals and bounces in his lap. Merle spares a brief thought that they should have done this in a kitchen chair before the plate is placed on the TV tray in front of him just as the sparkler candle reaches its end.
The baby claps, delighted with the show, and Sophia plucks the candle away just in time for Christian to nab a handful of the strawberry section to smoosh into his own face.
Merle considers joining him in the messy eating, just for the hell of it, but opts for the fork instead. Once the baby sees him eating with a utensil, he goes all baby bird to be fed. Cake's being shared around now to the rest of the family and the girls rightfully complimented for their work.
The kids have always made a big deal out of the day, but this is amped up due to all the new additions. Full of good food and sweet cake, he motions for Carol to lean in for a kiss.
It doesn't surprise him when he can see the room again to see his son tucking his camera away. He reminds himself to ask for a print of that one.
His birthday buddy stays tucked close even once the cake remains are spirited away, yawning and using Merle for a pillow. He thinks this may be his favorite birthday yet, even if like always, one of his children is away on a mission, and there's a stack of letters from Lilliana hiding in a desk drawer that he still doesn't feel like tackling.
~*~ EF ~*~
Eugene is waiting to slip away after the cake, anxious to be near the watch room for the evening report from the travelers. He thought Rosita was teasing him, when she first told him he was invited, but then Carol herself made sure he attended by subbing someone in on his watch shift. Since several of her family have made a point to drift by him at different parts of the day each day since she left, he isn't sure if Honey asked them to, or they're just doing it because from what he can tell, the Dixon definition of family is a rather flexible one. Honey's roommate Lydia was there, as well as Rick and Rosita, and Tara's sister and her family. It's puzzling, but he doesn't want to ask, because he isn't yet sure if he'd be happy or embarrassed Honey cared enough to ask them to keep him occupied.
Spending time with Jazz finally allowed him to realize that while on the surface, the teenager's Asperger's isn't obvious, he's got enough traits in common with Eugene that he wishes someone cared enough when he was younger to seek out similar services for him. Although some of the differences are due to advances in understanding in the fifteen-year difference between their formative years, he can't imagine either of his parents being as involved as Jazz's family obviously is.
He's happily explaining the chemistry of the teenager's cheesemaking to the other teenagers present, who are far more attentive than any high school student he taught in the last five years. He doesn't realize he's got an additional audience until Cricket clears her throat.
"Eugene? How much do you know about chemistry past high school classes?" she asks.
"I obtained two undergraduate degrees and one graduate degree before I was recruited to teach in the local school district because I was bilingual in Spanish and that was a skill combination in short supply even for Texas."
Cricket looks thoughtful, and he reminds himself that she's the woman whose graduate level education was interrupted by the global crisis. "Are all your degrees in chemistry?"
"One of the undergraduate and the postgraduate degree are. I obtained an undergraduate degree and a graduate degree in Chemical Engineering at Rice University in Houston, with a specialty in Materials Science and Engineering. It was one of my graduate school professors who introduced me to the idea of teaching instead of working in a laboratory." He'll always be puzzled that Professor Simmons thought him better suited for a life among people, especially young people, instead of among sterile lab equipment, but despite the irony of someone with his social skills teaching, he did enjoy the job with the occasional awkward child like himself to mentor.
"I thought teachers had to have a teaching degree," Sophia says.
"In many cases, if someone knows they want to become a teacher from the beginning, yes, they enroll in an education related program for their subject matter. But as I never considered the profession as a viable one for myself as a younger man, I enrolled in a program for alternative teacher certification. After a number of classes and field experience, I passed a subject content and a teaching methods exam given by the state and was given a paid internship in a school district for a year and at the end earned my standard teaching certificate instead of a probationary one."
"And your other degree?" He thinks the girl asking is Isabelle, but he's not as familiar with the children not directly related to Honey. "Wasn't it hard to get so many?"
"Geochemistry. I had originally intended to perhaps work in the petroleum industry, which as you know, is one of the primary employers in Texas, especially Houston. There are overlaps among the classes, such as both degrees requiring the same calculus classes and mechanics class. The graduate degree was the easier part, because it was designed by the university to be a logical extension of the first degree's curriculum."
The younger teenagers look a little confused, but Cricket's nodding thoughtfully, and so are Jazz and one of the older boys.
"I thought about similar but instead compressed my classes to finish my undergraduate in three years instead of four."
"With so many years of medical school and training ahead of you, I am not surprised that speeding along the lesser needed undergraduate years would be appealing." He manages a smile for the more confused youngsters. "It was difficult, some semesters, but I was wary of having to be in the real world, as adults like to drone on about when you are in middle and high school. So, taking additional college courses seemed a way to both be over prepared and delay the worry about such things."
That makes sense to all of them, at least, based on the smiles that appear. Adults harping on about the 'real world' is a universal constant, he supposes.
"Anyway, the reason I asked is that it sounds like you really do have a lot stronger grasp of laboratory chemistry than I picked up in rushing through college. How familiar are you with the process for how insulin was developed?"
It seems a very specific question, and Eugene thinks back to his organic chemistry classes and some of the side reading he did as subjects interested him. "I've read about it. They were awarded a Nobel Prize for the effort. Dr. Banting even outlined the process in his Nobel Prize speech."
"Could you remember enough of that process to start some experiments?"
The pointed questions leads him to understand there must be a diabetic - or more than one - among the populace, and while their pharmacy is remarkably well stocked, he understands insulin to be one of those medications that can't sit around for years waiting to be used. It's been years since he read the lecture in question, but he isn't sure he remembers enough of the details for something that's a life-saving medication. He shakes his head.
"It would be highly likely that any medical school would have copies of such a speech in their library collections," he suggests instead.
If it were any other subject, he might call the expression on Cricket Dixon's face a predatory gleam as she trots off to snag her sister and brother-in-law.
"I suspect a trip to Atlanta just got added to the roster," Jazz says.
Eugene suspects he's right.
~*~ MD ~*~
Merle stretches out relaxed and reading, entertained as always by the number of books that his children resort to for birthday gifts. Those were given on his actual birthday, so he's actually about halfway through the first one and enjoying it.
"You know, back at the quarry, when Sophia first told me you were reading together, I honestly didn't believe her," Carol says. She's working a crossword puzzle herself, with occasional questions to him about the clues.
"I don't expect I gave anyone the impression of being literate at the time." Ironically, the books Daryl kept dumping in his tent, purloined from the nearby city library branch, were one of the few things other than Daryl and Sophia that gave him a leash to reality. He still has all of them, kept as a reminder of the rough detour he took.
She laughs softly. "Oh, you had to be literate. Some of the arguments you had with Andrea, especially, showed a vocabulary well beyond a high school education. I think that's what kept setting her off about you. She didn't expect you to be able to counter her, and you could do it even when obviously high."
"Guess that did irritate her for a good long time." Despite Amy's engagement to Jamie and months of working alongside Merle giving him a good relationship with the younger Harrison sister, the former lawyer is still standoffish. Since she's not among the women close to - or important to - Carol, he honestly doesn't care about the blonde's opinion of him. If it were Jacqui still maintaining a strong distance, that would be a problem he might need to resolve.
"Which book are you reading?" Carol asks, leaning into his shoulder to peer at the page. "You've devoured that thing."
He chuckles. "Rocket Boys. Jazz's pick, and apparently there's a movie they're trying to track down." He flips the book to let her read the back cover.
"Well, I can see his reasoning. Maybe you aren't an engineer, but you do parallel the poor small-town boy to success idea."
"Considered it for a while, you know."
"Becoming an engineer?" She sounds intrigued.
"Once I had the money to take the classes, yeah. But by then, I really liked the hands-on of the construction field. Seemed like the engineers I've dealt with over the years for projects spent more time indoors and not enough getting to see their creations become reality. And I sure didn't want to ever work for the local or state government."
She giggles. "I can't see you managing the red tape of being part of the governmental system of employees."
"I would've been fired in the first week, you mean." He grins at her.
"Probably. Instead, you ended up with your own business, so it's an example now for the children and teenagers that they can figure things out without a classroom to sit in. Don't think I haven't noticed the number of the teens that ask for extra building shifts or spend their days off with your crews."
The teens spending time with the builders isn't just him and Amy passing on skills. They're picking up a lot from Henry, whose community college professorship in plumbing comes in really handy now, Gage is teaching the skills he picked up in his industrial maintenance program at community college, and Tyreese is one of the best roofers Merle's ever met. "If Noah does come back with our folks, we need to add him as a formal apprentice. He's spending enough time between Amy and I now that we might as well make it official."
She reaches for her notebook and makes the note, before stacking her crossword puzzle book on top of it and stealing his book via a distracting kiss that definitely spells intent.
"I do believe you already gave me a birthday present, Mrs. Dixon," he drawls, but reaches to pull her in anyway. The past days of reduced outdoor duties have been a sort of mini-honeymoon for them, and he certainly hasn't been feeling that one year closer to fifty his calendar age now states.
It's telling how young being happy makes you feel.
