CHAPTER 9 EXPLOSION OR WHAT?
It was the very next night that we were jolted out of our sleep by a tremendous explosion. We could see the whole northern sky on fire, but it seemed to be far away. There were no airplanes or flashes of lightning.
Scopi cried out, "Is it just us, or is it the whole world? Is this what that preacher was talking about?"
Dad said, "Boys, get up and dress. Do quickly whatever Mom tells you to do."
She had a list in her mind, memorized for that moment. "Radio, flashlights and batteries, shovel, cups and spoons, can opener, washcloths, first aid kit." She paused for breath.
The sky glowed brightly. We could look all around as if it were daylight. We ran out into the yard gathering up our things, seeing no stars or enemy invaders -- - only a fiery shine on every tree.
"Hurry, but walk slowly. Don‘t take deep breath! Go to the coal mine, most of our supplies are in there anyway. We'll need jackets, underwear, socks, knife, broom, Bible. That ought to do it -- - no, get pencils, paper, and toothbrushes. Matches? No, there will be too much danger of gas inside the mine to make a fire. Grab your sleeping bags! Let's go!"
Mom sounded like a drill sergeant. If we hadn't been so scared we would have laughed.
Dad took charge of the animals. He let the goats out of their barn to run loose, and commanded Caspian to “Stay," which he didn't.
One by one we slip-slid down the hill. It was good that the path was dry. We could easily see our way, and we kept watching the sky, wondering if there would be a mushroom cloud.
As we crowded into the mouth of the mine, Mom began to give more instructions.
"The first twenty-four hours are the worst. Try to sit very still. If we are dealing with nuclear fall-out it will look like particles of dust. That's the dangerous part. Radiation can‘t tum comers, so, back in this cave, we ought to be safe. There's plenty of protection overhead."
"Is this the end of the world?" said a very small voice from inside the black hole.
"Oh, no, Sol," said Dad with a big smile. "This is probably just the wrath of old Satan before Jesus comes to take over. Let's have a few verses of ‘A Mighty Fortress.’ That ought to chase any bad stuff out of here."
It worked. That was one song that we all knew by heart, and it gave us courage.
Let goods and kindred go. This mortal life also;
The body they may kill; God's truth endureth still,
His kingdom is forever.
(Martin Luther‘s song.)
"Mom, I think I dropped the radio; I was so busy looking at the sky. Do you want me to go back for it?" Scopi asked with a worried frown.
Mom winced, but tried to make him feel better. "You've done your part, son. This is the most important time to lie low."
"Daddy, please let Caspian curl up in here with me. I’m cold," Sol begged. "He'll be good. Maybe he‘ll help us to be safe."
JohnB cheered us up. "Look here! We've got the perfect place. We're totally shielded, and we've got all our supplies already piled up around us. Who's got the flashlight? Let's have a party!" He knew how to shift the mood of the whole group.
Somebody clicked on the light and Rooster started digging for food. It would have made a picture—all seven of us hunkered back in that cave, munching on peanuts, drinking ginger ale out of the bottle, peering out at the bright yellow sky with the reflection on our faces, and knocking those nasty flying bats out of our hair. Ugh!
We had no idea of what our future would be -- or our nation’s, but we began to curl up in our sleeping bags to get off the rocky floor and to find warmth. Dad had a fatherly prayer that made us feel better; it would be all right for us to relax and let God tend to His own business.
On the third day, Mom asked me to hold my breath and sweep the dust away from our doorway. I was glad to have some excuse to stand up straight. There wasn’t really any dust. The sky was dark and the sun looked like a big orange light bulb in a smoky room. I made short work of sweeping.
She and Dad were wishing for a hot cup of coffee. We had one mug and only a couple of spoons, but nobody was complaining. What we mostly wanted was news.
"Dad, would somebody want to bomb Capitol City?" asked JohnB. "Would the chemical factories be that much of a threat, or do you think we are looking at an explosion from as far away as Washington? Would that be possible?"
"I wish I knew," Dad sighed.
It would have been such a help to communicate with someone; the hardest part was just being so alone. We tried to trust God and be happy, but it was tough.
Sol rooted around in the mine. He was small enough to explore the farthest parts of the old diggings.
"Hey, Mom, look what I found." He came out slowly, crawling backward into our pool of daylight with something in his hand. "Here are some old jars full of pinto beans and a moldy Bible."
Was someone getting ready for this very time long years ago? Who would it have been and where was he now?
"Would it be all right if I use that Bible?" asked Scopi. "I was wondering if I could memorize Ephesians."
Dad grinned and handed it to him. "Go for it, son. I’ll help you if I can." Sometimes I wondered about Scopi.
Since Mom had studied survival, she helped us set up a plastic garbage bag for a toilet. We took turns going out to bury the bag each day, trying not to exert ourselves very much. Yes, it was embarrassing to have no privacy. It was disgusting, actually; but we were past caring about things like that.
By the end of the fourth day we were all bone weary. Also we needed water.
"Rooster," asked Mom, "would you take these two empty juice cans and go down to the creek, please? Get them about half full. If we let the water settle for several hours it will be safe to drink. You are as fast as a squirrel and can get back here before any harm comes to you."
Rooster was happy to get some fresh air. In a few minutes he scrambled up the hill.
"Daddy, somebody is down there. Somebody is coming up the creek, up the path. He‘s a man, or maybe a boy. I can't tell," he said in a hoarse whisper, pointing below.
We all crawled to the mouth of the mine and stared. The man had on an ancient denim jacket with lambs' wool lining, and he wore a pair of cowboy boots. His dark eyes looked furtively around in all directions, especially behind, as if to be sure that no one had followed. What was he doing up here?
As he drew closer our hearts clutched with recognition and a bit of fear. It was Paul, our old foster brother, an orphan, and a runaway from the law. It had been months before the flood that he had left us, headed for who-knows-where. He was part Cherokee and had silent, private ways. Was he looking for us?
Dad called to him, "Paul, up here, Paul. Come on up. We are mighty glad to see you."
It would have made another good picture. He looked up and saw us poking our heads out of the mine, even the dog. He was more startled than we were. He cautiously turned our way, jumping over the creek and keeping his eyes fixed on us as he scrambled up the bank, hanging onto bushes.
We scooted around, making a place for him to crawl in, and then we bombed him with questions.
"Paul, where have you been? Did you hear that we got flooded out? Were you looking for us? Did anybody tell you that we were safe? Do you know what made the explosion?"
He made his little one-sided grin that gave him a special appeal and asked, "Could I have a drink of water?"
"Oh, sure, honey," said Mom. "But, wait a minute, our water isn't safe yet. Sol, please go digging and see if we don't have another can of juice or soda."
Sure enough, we set him up with a cup of pineapple juice, fairly cool at sixty degrees. We wanted to hear him talk in the worst way.
"I came to the other side of the river a couple of days after the flood, but I saw that everything was gone. I hated it that you were drowned. As I went downstream along the riverbank, I saw your house, what was left of it. Way on down, I found a smashed up trunk. It had stuff hanging out. When I went over to look, I found these metal things. Aren't
they some of your Boy Scout badges?"
They were like the voice of a ghost out of our recent past. There was Scopi's Life badge, and my Eagle, still hanging onto its red, white, and blue ribbon. Muddy, of course, but showing the motto, "Be Prepared."
"Paul, those will mean a lot to us. It is kind of you to bring them," Dad said as he held out his hand and smiled.
"How do you live in here?" Paul asked, as he looked around the gloomy interior.
"We're not really here," explained JohnB. We all had to laugh. "I mean, we would be up the mountain at our cabin if it hadn't been for the explosion."
"Do you mean that you live in that cabin?" Paul asked in amazement. "I helped with that. Do you remember how we all worked on it that winter, for Sol's birthday?"
"Well sure, we remember, but you wouldn't recognize the place now. Dad has made it into a real home. We didn’t have anywhere else to go," JohnB continued.
"How about you, son. Do you have any place to live now," asked Dad, "or are you still moving around?"
"Well, my sister let me stay with them. When everything blew up, I ran."
"Paul, do you have any idea what caused the blast?" Dad probed.
"Naw. It knocked me off the couch. It looked like everything was on fire, especially down by the chemical tanks."
"What became of your sister?" asked Mom.
"I dunno."
"Did you see anybody on your way here?" asked Dad.
"Just people screamin' and cryin'."
"Paul, our door is always open," said Dad. "We don't know what our future will be, but you are welcome to share with us; that is, if you want to." Dad had learned not to give a Cherokee too many orders.
Paul searched each of our faces, checking to see how we boys felt. Satisfied, he crawled over to Dad, stuck out his hand and they shook. We were actually happy to have his company.
I noticed how JohnB was eager to tell him about Jesus. It was embarrassing to me, but Paul ate it up. In a few days his face began to glow just like Rooster's.
He got so he could smile and think up funny things. He squatted there in the mine with us and gave us all new nicknames which we hated, of course: Egghead, Jughead, Biscuithead, Rughead, Bughead. He loved to see us get mad when he called us those names. It was like an initiation, and it was his way of coming back into our lives.