Free The Journal: Cracked Earth by Deborah D. Moore

are really angry at the government
for not doing more. What is the government supposed to do? Those
that are screaming the loudest are the ones who refused to get out
before the hurricane made landfall, despite being strongly
encouraged to do so. I still don’t understand that mentality. I
just don’t.
    The news helicopter photos of Missouri are
surreal, like clips from a bad movie. One report said the National
Guard was called in; another said it was the Army. One interesting
and sad item was the destruction of a zoo. Buildings were toppled
and fences were ripped down by the falling debris, which means
animals are now on the loose. I must be getting punchy because all
I can think is “Lions, and Tigers and Bears. Oh, my!”
    It’s late and bad jokes are not my style. I
need sleep.
     
    * * *
     
    The morning was bitterly cold when I went to
Eagle Beach to see John for his weekly massage. It was pleasantly
warm inside and lights were blazing in every room. It was obvious
that the generator was working well. Steve was still cooking
breakfasts, which seemed odd. Usually by the time I arrive,
everyone has eaten and he’s in cleanup mode. It seems that not all
of the guys are doing their shifts at the mine, and are just
hanging around the house. From what I’ve heard of Green-Way Mining
Company, that won’t be tolerated for very long.
    John was unusually quiet and preoccupied.
When I asked him what was wrong, he said he couldn’t reach his
family in southern Indiana.
    “I know they’re all grown adults with
families and lives of their own, but they’re still my family and
I’m worried. I can’t reach my mom either,” he mumbled into the face
cradle of the massage table. I stilled my hands on his back, trying
to give him some of my positive energy.
    “Well, it’s likely that they’re fine and that
it’s because the cell towers are down. I’m expecting my cell to go
out soon. The tower near me has only a few more days of backup
power,” I said trying to be reassuring. It got me thinking about
lost communications. What would we all do? It’s been so easy to
pick up the phone and call whomever we wanted. Even though it’s
only been a few days, I needed to talk to Eric. What if I never
heard from him again? My sons mean the world to me. I understood
how John was feeling.
     
    * * *
     
    Back home the chores still needed to be done.
I hauled in extra wood and more kindling since the nights are
getting very cold. I fed the chickens and let them out into their
sheltered yard. Then I started up the generator so I could have
water to wash dishes. After the dishes I washed the globes on all
the oil lamps and topped the kerosene off. While the gennie was
going, I took a quick shower and washed my hair, glad again for
having my hair cut, donating eighteen inches to Locks for Love. I
filled a bucket of water for flushing and then shut the gennie
down. An hour in the morning and an hour at night should keep the
deep-freeze going for a while. One of my goals is still to use
something from the freezer every day for dinner. In time I’ll be
able to keep some of it in coolers on the deck, but not until the
temps stay below freezing. This food cannot go to waste!
    Tonight dinner will be chicken legs and the
last of the romaine lettuce for a salad. I’m really going to miss
salads. I still have half a head of garden cabbage in the fridge.
Cabbage keeps so well, especially when it’s that fresh. I need to
grow more of it next year. There had been a half row of Swiss
chard, however the chickens made short work of that. Next year I’ll
protect it better. I will keep this head of cabbage for fresh
coleslaw. When it runs out, I will use the coleslaw I canned last
summer. I wish I could thank David, the group’s canning guru, for
that recipe, but he hasn’t been online lately. In fact, all the
internet groups are strangely quiet. I think we’re all quite busy
just surviving.
     
    * * *
     
    JOURNAL ENTRY: November 14
     
    While