CHAPTER 12 BE PREPARED
We spent hours working on the list.
"Could I have a sewing machine?" teased Mom.
"What's so funny?" asked Sol.
"You know," whispered Rooster, "you can't plug it into a tree."
"Oh, yeah. That's right."
"I know something good to get for me," volunteered Rooster. "How about a trot line and another fishing pole?"
"We really could use the fish," agreed Dad.
"What happens if we’re the ones that get caught?" Paul asked, getting us off track.
"We'll make a quick trip to Heaven and come back on white horses with Jesus." That was Dad's answer and nobody laughed.
"How about me, Dad? Could I get some real traps and go hunting in the winter?" Sol suggested.
"We'll surely make a try for that, Sol. Good thinking. I could teach all of you how to make rabbit boxes like I used to do when I was a boy."
"Dad, I just can‘t live much longer without music," JohnB admitted softly. "Could I get a bunch of new guitar strings and a better radio, maybe a short-wave or one of those you crank?"
Dad smiled at him with compassion. It's funny how you can live every day with someone and not even know what makes him hurt.
This went on until the fire was nothing but coals. We picked up Sol and Rooster and laid them, sound asleep, on their sleeping bags. Mom made her last trip to the outhouse, and we all fell asleep in spite of the ominous plans for our large and last shopping trip.
The next morning, we were running in circles, getting ready to go. "Hey, where's Paul?" I asked, looking all around the house and yard. "Has anybody seen Paul? Wasn't he asleep with us on the porch?"
"Oh, Dad," Scopi cried, with real tears running down his face, "do you suppose he made his decision to go along with the . . . oh, you know what I mean."
He ran off toward the spring, grabbing a bucket on the way, sobbing hard.
"God lets us decide, children. He doesn't want us to be His little puppets. Paul is old enough to make up his mind."
We let the goats and Caspian loose. We didn't lock our door; there wasn't anything much to steal, but Scopi did hide his telescope under a quilt.
Down we went. It was Mom's first time across the river since the flood. It might have been dangerous for her in her condition, but she didn't want to miss anything. She thought the boat ride was neat.
We were in a holiday mood by the time we found some rides into town. We met at the doughnut place, our old favorite.
"Do you mean we've lived this long without fresh doughnuts?" we all asked. "How long has it been since we've had a bath?"
The waitress gave us a haughty look.
"Listen, lady," I thought way down in my heart. "Don't look at us like that. If you knew our whole story you would wipe that sneer off your lips." Our homemade haircuts and muddy shoes didn't help any, but still....
Dad made reservations for us at a nice motel. It seemed just like old times when we used to be rich and have special trips or vacations. Actually, what we needed was a place -- a place to bring in our purchases and make piles for each person.
At the courthouse he paid our taxes for several years ahead, hoping not to attract suspicion. Next, he got our medical visits lined up.
We went into a second-hand store with Mom to see if we could make our money stretch. We had to show all our ID cards. Everyone seems to be concerned about kidnapping or something. The lady frowned as she counted us.
"But, Mom, I don't like to sort through other people's old clothes," I complained at the rummage store. "Do we have to?"
"It's like a game, JG. You see if you can outsmart the money business. Sometimes you can find something really nice. Why pay a fortune for something just because it's new? We've got to have lots of clothes to cover your growing legs."
She was right. I wished for photography equipment but, there on a bottom shelf, was an antique typewriter. It didn't need electricity at all. It even had a good ribbon and a cover like a little suitcase. That's when I thought that I really could be a writer.
JohnB strutted around the store in a full-length fur coat. "I’m going to get you," he growled, chasing Sol and Rooster. They raced through the store squealing. Mom had to tame them all down. I guess we had gotten almost wild.
When Dad came, he pointed out to Mom a nice old flat-topped trunk covered in brown leather. "Honey, I’ll haul this up the mountain on my own back if you would like to have another place for your treasures."
She stood and admired the looks of it, but politely refused. "‘I don't think we‘ll be needing any sentimental keepsakes where we're heading," she smiled.
It sort of gave me the cold chills. Everything about our future was so real to her.
After a full day of shopping and a wonderful dinner in a big restaurant, we went to a movie. Dad kept his promise to show us a good time. We thought it was a war movie, A Separate Peace, but it was an oldie about boys our age at some sort of boarding school. I was betting that those boys would have been willing to pay their good money to see a movie about our school!
It took us three whole days to finish our work, then the truck came to drive us home. It took two trips to deliver most of our stuff and us boys. The last load was small. Mom and Dad rode with the driver, stopping at a grocery store. They bought up food until the last bit of our account was spent.
Dad said that the check-out ladies seemed irritated. They were looking forward to the big switch-over on Thursday, everything was going to be so much easier.
We were busy taking our stuff across in the boat and storing it back in the mine when we heard them coming. The truck driver was friendly and helped Dad unload. He took his pay and waved good-bye as he drove on shaking his head with a puzzled look. We hadn't told him our story. He was excited about all the new moves toward world peace.
Caspian was waiting for us at the river bank. Good old dog. At least we had one friend, but would we ever see Paul again?
I guess we were spoiled by our trip into the Real World, because the climb up to our home seemed very steep and very bleak. I looked back more than once with longing.