Norman’s rifle. It was a Birmingham Small Arms .270-caliber hunting rifle. It had a wood grain stock and a leather sling. It was well cared for, which always told me that the owner cared about his tools and made sure that they were ready when he needed them.
“This is a nice rifle, Norman. My grandfather had one just like it when he was alive.” I looked the rifle over some more. When my grandfather, Pap Pap Dale, died, he left me his hunting rifles. The .270 was one of them. It was a shame I needed to leave it in my apartment, but I couldn’t carry the extra weight of another rifle and ammo. It just wasn’t realistic.
“Okay, Norman. Let’s get moving. You might wanna slack around here for a few days, but I don’t like bein’ in one spot too long. Let’s get moving.” He looked at me like I was a complete idiot. I smiled at him to let him know I was joking.
“Hey, man, what’s your name? I should know the name of the guy that just saved my life.”
“My friends call me Buck,” I said as I stuck out my hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Buck. Thanks again,” he said as we shook hands.
I repacked what gear I had used to get Norman ready for travel and shrugged on my pack. We made it to the roadway and started moving in the direction he originally pointed.
We moved along the roadway fairly slowly. I scanned all around us, checking our rear to make sure we weren’t being followed. Every so often, I would have Norman stop so I could listen for anything that didn’t sound normal.
“Damn, man, you are one paranoid dude,” he said as he again looked at me like I was an idiot.
“No, Norman, I’m not paranoid. I just know how people have been since we all lost power. Here in the country, it might not have hit you yet, but in the city areas, they’re killin’ each other for a drink o’ water. I don’t wanna die for the gear I got on my back, but I sure as hell will kill to keep it, ’cause it’s what’s kept me alive so far, and it’ll keep me alive till I get to where I’m goin’.”
“Where are you goin’ anyway?” he asked as we got up to move on.
“My best friends live up north, outside a’ Pittsburgh. I’m headin’ up there. We used to work together years ago, and I think that if I’m up there and not in the city, and I’m with them, my chances of survivin’ this are a lot better.”
“Well, if you want, you can hang with me and the family for a few days. It’s the least we can do. We can fill your gut a few times, maybe wash your clothes, ’cause you do smell a little ripe.” He laughed like he had just heard the funniest joke ever told.
I just shook my head and kept walking. We walked like this for another hour or so, talking, laughing a little. We would stop and take breaks occasionally, as moving with the makeshift crutch was harder for Norman than it looked. He talked about his wife and kid. Eventually, he stopped, took a breath, and pointed a short way ahead of us at a bend in the road.
“My place is just around the corner.” We pushed on. Soon, the trees along the road started to thin out and turned into a small field of hay. Through the field, I could see a small ranch-style home, made of brick and tan siding. It was well-kept and clean. I could see in the backyard which held several fenced-in areas that housed some pigs, chickens, and a couple of cows. The homestead was a small farm that was just big enough for them.
We kept walking, and as we got closer to Norman’s house, the door swung open and a petite brunette came bursting through the doorway. Instinctively, the AR came up.
“Easy, Rambo. It’s just Amanda.” She was thin and kind of homely-looking, but it was obvious that she was glad to see Norman. She was wearing a light-blue sundress and pink tennis shoes, with her brown hair pulled up into a bun. Right behind Amanda came the biggest six-year-old I’ve ever seen. He was about three and a half feet tall and had to weigh a good eighty or ninety pounds. He was wearing blue cut-off jean shorts and a green T-shirt that was about two sizes too small for him. Before I could stop myself, I started to laugh.
“Man, don’t laugh. I told ya we call ’im Dozer. We call ’im Dozer for a reason.” Norman had a smile on his face as he scolded me.
Amanda reached Norman and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him nonstop.
“Baby, oh my god, I was so worried,” she said in between kisses. Then she got pissed.
“Where the hell have you been?” she scolded, looking at me with a pretty evil eye. Dozer was standing behind her, with his fists on his hips, looking at me like he was going to take my head off. I was kind of afraid that he might have been able to do it.
“Baby, don’t bitch at me in front of guests. I got into an accident and totaled the truck. I got trapped inside and couldn’t get out. Buck here happened to come along and save my life,” he said as he directed attention to me like Vanna White showing off a new car.
Amanda turned and hugged me, kissing me on each cheek. “Thank you for saving my idiot’s life. I hope you’re going to be staying with us for a while.”
“I think I might.” I said. “I need a rest, a wash, some clean clothes, and some food in my gut.”
“Well, all of that we can do for ya.” She grabbed my hand and walked me to the house, leaving Norman to fend for himself.
We walked in the front door to a clean and well-kept house. The front foyer had a set of stairs going up to a living room, kitchen, and a couple of bedrooms. The downstairs was a family room and another bedroom. The carpeting in the house was a light brown, almost a tan, with off-white painted walls. There were family pictures hanging up and some in frames on the end tables. It looked like any normal all-American home, but after the few weeks I had spent sleeping on the ground, it sure looked comfortable.
Amanda took me upstairs and led me to one of the back bedrooms. It was the same color scheme as the rest of the house. It held a bed, a dresser, and a closet, and had its own bathroom. As she walked into the room, she pointed at the bed then at the bathroom.
“You can drop your stuff there on the bed. The bathroom has a tub. Norman was able to rig some plastic drums outside the two-bathroom windows, so we kinda still have running water. You can take a bath, or wash up. The water’ll be cool, but at least you’ll be clean. We’ll eat in about an hour or so. Thanks again for bringin ’im back to me.” She hugged me again and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
I dropped my pack on the bed and dug out my hygiene kit. It wasn’t major, just some toothpaste, a toothbrush, some camp soap, a straight razor, and a washrag. The bathroom was small and basic. It had a tub, a sink, a toilet, and a mirror. The bathroom was your normal working-class bathroom, nothing extravagant. I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was usually high and tight with shaved sides and a goatee on my face. But now, I had a full beard and a full head of hair. I used the camp soap to lather up my face and the straight razor to clean things up. I didn’t shave the beard off, just cleaned up the perimeter. Once that was done, I went to the window. There was a two-inch rubber hose running in through a gap in the window, running from a blue fifty-five-gallon drum that Norman had rigged to a platform outside. The hose had some kind of garden faucet on the end of it. I turned on the faucet, and water started to drain into the tub. I smiled at the invention. It was pretty cool.
I put about an inch of water in the tub. I didn’t want to waste the water, because I didn’t know when it would rain again. I crawled into the tub. Amanda was wrong, the water
