Tempest of Tennessee (Episode 1): Tempest of Tennessee Page 9

  With Bella’s arm around him, he stayed leaned over the porch until his breathing strengthened. Straightening to stand, he said, “I need to lie down, Sister.

  I held the door open for them. “Do you need help with him?”

  “No, I’ve got him. Take care of what you have to. We can’t have the bodies lying in plain sight.”

  I met Vikas on the trail to the cabin, called to him before he reached me, “We need the tractor and trailer. Throw on the pick and shovels.”

  ************

  Not a vehicle passed by the corner of the main road during the entire time it took to load the bloody bodies of the six men onto the trailer.

  I was glad none of the men was fat because it was a struggle to lift them onto the bed of the trailer, especially because Vikas puked a few times. He was okay with the two near the van, but John’s shotgun had mostly removed the head of the man lying near Sam.

  The exposed brain matter is what set him off. After that, he retched and puked while loading the rest.

  I knew it made no difference, but for some reason I didn’t want to dump the bodies on the WMA. With Vikas standing on the running board, I crossed our gravel road and went into the trees belonging to the paper company.

  The trail used by hunters to access the property was rough, with overgrowth hiding the ruts and dips. It made for a bouncy ride. Several times Vikas almost lost his grip. Twice we had to stop and reload a body that jostled from the trailer.

  My destination was a sand deposit where local farmers went to get sand for their projects. One of the farmers owned a backhoe and had cut deep back into the hill to expose more sand. The back wall of the cut was almost ten-feet high.

  I maneuvered the tractor to place the trailer alongside the wall, climbed from the tractor.

  Vikas joined me beside the trailer.

  “This is good,” he said, “Sand will be easy to dig.”

  Shaking my head, I told him, “We need to hide the bodies, but even digging sand, it’ll be too much work to dig a big enough hole for six men. We’ll put em at the bottom of the wall and hack into it until enough sand falls to cover em.”

  What I thought would be easy, turned out to be hard, but not as hard as digging graves. After an hour of picking and shoveling, we barely had a foot of dirt covering the eighteen-foot line of double stacked bodies at the base of the wall.

  Leaning my shovel against the wall, I turned to Vikas. “We’ve been at it an hour. Let’s take a break.

  We sat on the tail of the trailer, but only for a moment. It was chilly, we’d both shed out jackets, but we were sweat drenched from our exertion. With us no longer working, the slight wind was freezing cold. Vikas went for his Jacket and tossed mine to me.

  Sitting back beside me, he said, “It is good we finally have a moment to talk.”

  I thought he wanted to talk about the killing, but that wasn’t it.

  “Last evening after you left Sunil turned on the radio. I was outside to get dry wood to start the charcoal in the stove. He called for me so loud that I thought someone was hurt, but that was not it. He had the radio tuned to VHF in the realm of television. Somehow, between channels was audio of someone speaking to someone else but we only heard one side of the conversation.”

  “What did you hear?” I asked.

  “It was not good news from the radio. The reception was weak and would sometimes fade, but until it went away for good, we learned a little news.

  “The English speaking woman never said where she was, but her accent was American. From words spoken, I believe she was talking to a relative. She asked of the wellbeing of several people. She was concerned if any had the plague.”

  “There’s a plague, what sort?”

  Vikas nodded. “Yes, a plague, a bioweapon. She did not name it, but did tell to whom she spoke the symptoms to watch for. She also said it is wide spread and to treat a stranger as infected.”

  “What are the symptoms?” I asked.

  “Skin rash and ulcer, fever, vomiting and diarrhea are the symptoms. Death derives from dehydration and internal sepsis. Transmission is by cough or sneeze and by contact with body fluids. The woman said that the dead are infectious until decomposition is advanced.”

  A plague outbreak was a good reason to move to the woods and stay there. I asked Vikas, “What else did you hear?”

  “This will be extract without useless talk. Again, from the words we heard, I believe she was answering questions from whomever she was speaking.

  “Condensed form, this is what she said; “No, to my knowledge the President did not survive. No, Seattle was wasted. It appears the satellites are not relaying data. Yes, due to possible EMP effects. No. Most of the nuclear effects are limited to the northern hemisphere with the exception of Australia.

  “The last bit we heard before we lost the signal was this, “I’m sorry for your loss. Law and order in my area is a mixed bag. Before the plague, acting as independent entities without a central authority, some cities and towns were able to maintain order within their jurisdiction. Because of people leaving cities in search of food, the plague came to them.

  “Some rural people united for mutual protection. Rather than risk the chance of infection, they shoot to kill any who trespass and refuse to leave. Miss Tempest, it is that the world has fallen to anarchy.”

  “You don’t need proof of that, Vikas. Look at us. We’re here burying thugs that invaded our area and I don’t think any of us feel the urge to report the raid.”

  Vikas gave me a grim, half-smile, “No that is not felt.” He gave the same half-smile and said, “After the children were in their bed, Preeja and I spoke of you. At a point in our conversation, I called you a little girl. Later, before we went to sleep, she chided me. I did not know until then that she was… er, the word… er, yes, stewing. That is it.”

  I wasn’t upset about what he called me to Preeja. I am a little girl, certainly not yet a woman, but I felt what was coming next.

  “Preeja said to me, Vikas, we need to thank the gods that she is here for us. In Lexington, we would be already dead or running for our lives. Tomorrow she has asked us to fight with her. The fight is not about Tempest, but is for us all. She is building a home for us. Yes, we help, but it is her material and her knowledge that is moving us.

  “She has provided us with weapons, food, everything. What she asks in return, you tell me for I have heard nonesuch of debt. My Preeja says never again call you a little girl. She commanded me to speak of you as Tempest or Miss Tempest.

  “Miss Tempest, I, and through I, my family, we say thank you for the chance we have.”

  I appreciated his words, but almost laughed at her command to call me Tempest, by definition, a violent commotion or disturbance. Then again, if they were judging me by recent events, the Tempest they know surely fit that description.

  To Vikas, I responded, “I have found something in me that I didn’t know. I’ve killed several men and it doesn’t bother me at all.”

  “Is that a worry for you?”

  “No Vikas, I think it is a blessing. The blessing is that they were no-counts and needed to die. The real blessing is that I don’t want to kill ‘anyone’, but if people don’t want to die, then they’d better leave us alone. All I want is my house in the forest amid the animals and plants… oh, and fungi. I have a new mushroom book.”

  Vikas was thoughtful for a moment and then said, “Habits are hart to break. I was about to call you an odd little girl, but in my country are many Hindu. Hinduism has always manifested itself as sensitive to nature, to live as one with the natural world. Perhaps there is in you a spirit that draws you to the trees.”

  That gave me a chuckle. “If such a spirit exists, then I’m possessed by her… er, is the spirit a ‘her’?”

  Vikas chuckled back, “I don’t believe it has a gender.”

  I stood, “Well, no matter. We need to finish here and return to the farm. Neither John nor Bella are well. I don’t like them or
your family being alone. Let’s put six more inches on the mound and call it done.”

  Vikas stood to stand with me, “Yes, let us finish, I too worry about my family.” Then pointing to the sand and dirt on top of the bodies beside the wall, he added, “I am happy to no longer see them.”

  Back at the Causley home, to my surprise, Preeja and the children were putting the finishing touch on cleaning the pools of blood from the graveled drive. With a rake and garden trowels, they had turned them under to expose fresh gravel that was drying to match the surrounds. They’d done so well that already it was hard to discern that only a couple hours ago, the Causley’s front drive was a killing field.

  Preeja stood from where she squatted, told the children they were finished and then went to embrace Vikas, whispering something to him that caused him to pull her tighter.

  Sunia, the girl said to me, “Now we are all murderers.”

  Preeja heard what she’s said. “Again, Sunia, mind your manners. These may be times of trouble, but you will heed what you have been taught.”

  Sunia’s face turned a darker tint and she said, “Yes mother. I beg forgiveness.”

  “This time, yes, but heed and adhere to your teachings.”

  We’d buried the dead, but my day was not over. Sunil called out, “Someone comes this way.”

  I turned to follow his pointing finger. Mama and Grandma were on their way. I left to go meet them.

  Grandma Sophia said, “We heard the shooting. You all are still alive. I see the car and van, but no sign of Sam and his bunch.”

  I wasn’t admitting to anything. “They decided to walk to town.”

  Grandma smiled. “That was right smart of them. Right nice too that they left the van and car with you. I reckon they’re yours now?”

  Agreeing, I said, “I reckon so.”

  “Do you reckon you can drive us over to Allen’s place?”

  “No, I have a better idea. Mama knows how to drive. She should have the car. There’s a chance Allen may not have a running vehicle and having the car might sweeten the deal of you and her showing up.”

  Grandma smiled a knowing smile. “It might at that. We’ll thank you for the car, and you’ll rest easy knowing you’re rid of us.”

  Rather than agree with that bitter truth, I told a half-truth. “It’s not that I want to be rid of you, it’s that I don’t know how to be ‘with’ you.”

  Mama spoke. “No, and you never have, but considering who was fathering you, that’s nothing to hold against you. I’ll say my goodbye here, away from them down there. In my way, I love you and I’ll miss you.”

  Left unsaid to Mama was she let all her daughter’s down, let Sam run roughshod over our lives like a smalltime dictator. At this point, words of disdain didn’t matter. I was done with that life, done with Mama and with Grandma, branded in my mind as cowards.

  Minutes later, with Mama behind the wheel of the car, they turned the corner at the main road and drove from sight.

  ************

  Days passed and winter settled in. Spending as much time huddled near the burn barrel as we did working; it took another two weeks to finish the house for the Popat family.

  After another day spent bringing the furniture from the barn, that evening the Popat’s celebrated occupancy by lighting their wood fire and arranging their furnishings.

  Alone, in possession of my little cabin, just thirty feet away from theirs, I broke out a wine bottle of ‘shine’ from a batch Billy and I brewed. With him, we’d sip and get tipsy. That night, I drank myself drunk with bottle-shots until I passed out. I woke coverless on the floor half-frozen, opened my eyes to sunlight daggers that stabbed my brain, and crawled to my door, opened it without standing, pushed my head onto the landing and puked.

  Boy oh boy did I learn the difference between sipping and drinking. There was nothing fun about getting drunk. It took me a while to figure out that the weird feeling on my cheek was my head lying in three inches of puke-wet snow.

  I managed to get back inside and shut the door. Two pukes in a bucket, I had a fire going. Six aspirins and two hours later I could move my head without it giving me thoughts of killing myself.

  I answered a knock at my door.

  Preeja stood on the landing holding a steaming cup of tea. Though she spoke cheery enough to me, disdainful eyes were looking at the bright colored mess in the snow on the small landing.

  “Good morning Miss Tempest, are you okay.”

  “I’m okay. Why?”

  “May I come in?”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” Stepping from the door, moving to open a folding chair, a flash of memory came of me outside, running through the forest.

  Placing the chair by the narrow workbench I used as a table, I gestured to it and said, “Please sit.” Taking my seat on the edge of my bunk, I said, “I got drunk last night but I don’t remember much except I was outside—.”

  Preeja sat at the bench, placed the cup on the end near me and interrupted me. “Drink this tea. It has herbs to help your head.”

  Those words told me there was more than running around in the woods that I couldn’t remember.

  “What did I do last night? How stupid was I?”

  Preeja pointed to the cup. “Sip while we talk. Miss Tempest, you were not stupid. Last night was sad. We heard you outside in the cold screaming and shouting epitaphs. It was many minutes before Vikas determined we should go to your aid. You were in the cold without jacket or hat.”

  “What was I shouting about?”

  “Oh, Tempest. You cursed your father, your mother, but mostly you called for Billy. You cursed God for taking him. You begged for his return. Vikas and I brought you here. You fought us. You are strong, but we put you to bed and stayed until you calmed and fell asleep.”

  Embarrassed, I said, “Thank you. I’ve never been drunk before. Now I know I never want to be drunk again.”

  Preeja pointed to the cup. “Please drink.”

  I lifted the cup and sipped.

  Pleased, she continued, “You, more than us have lived with stress. You took our family upon your back. You took Bella and John upon you. We have a house because of you. You share with many the food that is yours. Always, you give for no return. I am here to ask, what can we give to you?”

  I had no answer for her. “I don’t want anything.” Then other words came to me. “You brought me home last night, put me to bed. That is what friends do, help each other.”

  Preeja smiled and gestured again to my idle cup, “Yes, that is what friends do.” Her smile faded. “Are you frightened? All the time, I am frightened. I know Vikas pretends not, but he is as well.”

  “Preeja, I have always felt different from everyone else. I like people in small doses. The life of people, the being with them is hard for me. I didn’t want to go to church because I had to deal with people, listen to their crap.

  “School, if it was just the learning would have been better, but always it was the other students around me, talking stupid stuff that didn’t matter to me, saying things that made me want to bash their heads.

  “At home, it felt as if I lived with people I didn’t know. Watching the man who wasn’t my father scheming ways to cheat and steal. He brutalized me. My Mama let him. She joined in. participated. My empty-headed sisters spared the rod, were nothing but trade goods to feed until ripe.

  “The world of people has no meaning to me, they have nothing I need. In the forest, the world of people goes away. My mind is at rest. I think it is because the laws of nature are honest. There is no pretense in the fox. There is no expectation of kindness in the rabbit. Beyond the honesty, in nature there is beauty beyond my belief. I’m always finding new patterns of color, of growth, of behavior that makes sense if you observe long enough.”

  Preeja didn’t immediately reply to what I said. We sat in silence, her thinking and me sipping.

  Breaking the pause, she said, “I understand. Humans are unpredictable, but the plants and an
imals follow set rules governed by their nature and by nature. In that you are correct, but because you are human, with humans your interactions are precarious because you crave the predictable.”

  “Yes.”

  “My dear Tempest, you are young. With time, you will find that humans are as predictable as is any other part of nature. Think of this. You and we knew that it was best that we leave Lexington. You knew you would have problems with the man who is not your father. You knew that our family would appreciate the home we helped you build.

  “So much of human nature is predictable. That is why the term, human nature is used. With study, the unknown about them can become as known as the behavior of the fox or the rabbit.”

  I said to her what I felt. “I know that humans are predictable most of the time, but unlike animals of the forest, inside every human there lives a fox, a rabbit, a hissing poisonous snake. That is what makes them unpredictable. You can never be sure what animal they may be at any one time. The best of circumstances can bring the dove, but let circumstances change and you may be facing the wolf or the snake.”

  Again, there is silence while she thinks. I finish my tea before Preeja speaks again.

  “Perhaps that is why I cannot rid myself of fear. Because of lawlessness, the doves are hiding and the wolves and snakes are running free. Each person we meet may come with hunger for our food or malice to do us harm. What can we do in the face of such bleak reality?”

  My answer was simple, but it lay heavy. “Survive. Trust no one at first meeting. If we’re threatened, become the animal that bites.”

  She queried, “Become as unpredictable as they?”

  Shaking my head, I said, “No. Become very predictable. Become so vicious that they know to leave us alone unless they wish a fight to the death.”

  Preeja wasn’t convinced. “That will be a horrible fate for us. Let us hope you are wrong. We do not know the true state of the world. We are isolated from the mainstream of people. We have no news, no travelers to inform us. Let us hope that the situation is better than we assume.”