Story Sunday Morning Coming Down...

ncsfsgm

ncsfsgm

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Chapter One

Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad
So I had one more for dessert…..

Traven Morgan rolled over on the couch and threw his forearm across his eyes to block the sun streaming through the window. Damn Jason Martin and his tequila. These Saturday night card games were getting out of hand! Traven felt around on the floor beside him and found the remote, then shut the stereo off and turned the TV on. When the song had mentioned beer for breakfast, Traven’s mouth flooded with saliva, a sure sign he was about to puke. Rushing to the half-bath, the feeling went away but the need to empty his bladder overcame him. He did his business, washed his hands out of ingrained habit,( but a Morgan never pissed on his hands), and went back into the den. The TV screen was flashing with pictures of smoke over a city and a grim-faced announcer explaining that terrorists had set off a nuclear bomb in New York City.

Soon, other breaking news about airliners being shot down by missiles interrupted the broadcast as Traven made coffee. With his mind clearing, he began to work out what was going on and his heart beat faster. Maybe it was time to take a little vacation. By the time he had finished his first cup of coffee, he had made his decision. Terror attacks were taking place all across the country and it was only a matter of time before Evansville became a target. The bomb in New York had probably been a SADM device (Special Atomic Demolitions Munition) and they could be anywhere. With all the undocumented immigrants rushing across the border, terrorists could be anywhere.

Traven took his GO Bag out of the hall closet and an empty duffle. Opening the window, he unhooked the StarLink antenna, wrapped it in a throw off the couch and placed it in the duffle along with the other components. He added his laptop and portable printer and carried the duffle over to the GO bag and sat it down. He went down to his garage storage room and brought back a cooler. Dumping the ice from the icemaker into the cooler, he began filling it with perishables from the refrigerator. Frozen packs of lunch meat and cheese from the freezer were added.

A sudden thought crossed his mind, and he rushed out of his apartment and across the hall to Cindy Harper’s apartment and knocked on the door. A wide-eyed Cindy opened the door. “Traven, did you see…!”

“You want to go fishing?” Traven asked, his eyes drawn to the skimpy clothing she was wearing.

Her eyes opened largely with surprise that quickly changed to one of understanding and she said, “Uh…yeah, sure! Let me get on some clothes and gather my things!”

She walked stiffly over to her coat closet and pulled out a travel pack similar to Traven’s and an empty duffle.

“I’m going to finish in my apartment and start loading.” Traven said and left.

By the time Cindy was ready, Traven had backed the truck up to his garage opening and hooked up the trailer and loaded the bags and cooler into the back of the truck. Traven went to her apartment and got her two bags and a cooler.

“Are you packing?” Cindy asked.

“Never leave home without it!” Traven said, patting his side.

“Me too!” Cindy said, walking stiffly to the passenger side of the truck and getting in.

Traven pulled forward, got out, and closed the garage door. Getting back in, he headed south to the Twin Bridges to cross the river.

They had gone over a scenario like this several times; the possibilities, the GO bags, code phrases and last-minute packing and their destination that she still hadn’t had a chance to visit yet.

“I love this truck, but now I don’t know how to turn the radio on.” Cindy said, staring at the new touchscreen in-dash system Traven had installed.

Traven glanced over, touched a couple of icons, and scrolled through the stations until he found a news station. “Use this icon to tune and this one to control the volume.” Traven said.

The 1972 International Harvester Travelall was a complete restore/rebuild. He had slowly worked on it for over a couple of years to get it where he wanted it. He found it soon after arriving in Evansville and fell in love with the possibilities. Cindy had even helped him with some of the restoration. Traven touched the screen again and brought it back to the navigation screen.

“Wait! There’s a 7-11. Stop in so I can get a frozen Coke!” Cindy cried.

“Get me one too. There’s money in the dash pocket.” Traven said.

“I’ve got it!” Cindy replied.

Traven rubbed his hand on the dash and knew it might be a little premature to leave Evansville, but he didn’t want to take any chances that Homeland Security would start shutting down the Interstates and a good distance of their route was down I-69.
When Cindy got back to the truck, she carefully wiped down the sides of the cups and set them in the cup holders. Pulling herself into the passenger seat, she got strapped in and took a sip of her Coke and a bite of the cold cheese Danish she had purchased.
“Want some?” Cindy asked, her question muffled by the confection in her mouth.

Traven shook his head, got on the beltway, and they soon crossed into Kentucky and were at the twin bridges. As they were crossing the Ohio River, Traven noticed there were a lot more Highway Patrolmen visible than usual. He breathed a sigh of relief as they crossed onto the south side of the bridge.

They had about 139 miles to go before they reached the house. Cindy got comfortable, slipped off her prosthetic leg, rubbed the stump with some lotion, and was soon napping. She was shy about her leg around most people but seemed comfortable when Traven was around.

The frozen Coke had cleared Traven’s head, and the miles melted away.

Back in the 40’s, TVA came in and decided to dam up the Ohio and Cumberland rivers for flood control and to produce hydroelectric power. They bought a lot of land that would later become a peninsula they would rename the Land Between the Lakes and turn it into a national recreation area. Previously, the locals referred to it as the Land Between the Rivers. What land people didn’t willingly sell was taken by eminent domain and the people moved out, or at least most did. Traven’s family had occupied their land for over 200 years and Traven’s great-grandfather said he was damned if they were going to make his family move. The TVA said their land would be completely flooded but old Duncan paid a lawyer in gold to fight it in court. In the end, the result was just prime bottom land would be flooded but 260 acres would be high and dry. The judge let the family stay but Duncan was paid a pittance for the land he lost. Only one other man refused to move and gained the notoriety that Traven’s great grandfather shied from. He had lived up in the now defunct town of Model where the Great Western Iron Furnace used to be and had been a WW II vet who had what is now known as PTSD. Family finally got him to move to Dover, but he kept slipping away and walking the 15 miles back home. He just wanted to be away from people. He had electricity but no running water so relatives would bring him drinking water and food. The authorities finally relented and let him live there until he finally had to be put in a nursing home. As far as the Morgan family was concerned, the government left us alone and basically ignored them. The only contact with the government people the Morgans had was the occasional Forest Service rep. They came snooping around every so often. They still paid taxes to Stewart County.

After his grandfather, Amos Morgan, died, Traven’s father moved the family to Hopkinsville for better work and pay. He got a job at a bowling ball manufacturing plant and worked there until he retired.

Once Traven got his driver’s license, he would go every weekend down to the farm and keep the place up. He did the repairs and kept the grass mowed. Traven’s father kept the taxes paid and that’s the way it stood until Traven went to the UK in Lexington. He couldn’t get back to the farm as much as he once did, but when he could, he would. When he graduated, he returned to the farm for the summer and worked on the buildings to get them back into shape. A metal roof went on the log house and the logs treated for weather resistance.

Cindy woke up groaning, saying she had to go to the bathroom.

Traven pulled off the highway and stopped at the Marathon in Nortonville, Cindy quickly put her leg back on and hurried inside. Traven pulled up to the diesel pump and filled his tanks then went inside and bought Pepsi Colas and peanuts to munch on.
Traven was pouring peanuts into his Pepsi when Cindy returned. “How much farther is it?” Cindy asked as she reached for her bottle of Pepsi and her bag of peanuts.

“A little over an hour.” Traven said, collecting their empty cups and tossing them into the trash barrel by the pumps.

They stopped at Ferrell’s in Hoptown for dressed cheeseburgers before continuing on 68. Hopkinsville would be the last town of any size they would see for a while. They picked up eggs, bread and milk, bacon, a pound of pork sausage, and a box of Honey Nut Cheerios for Cindy at a convenience store then headed west on 68.

Traven felt a wave of nostalgia as they crossed the Lake Barkley Bridge then the bridge at Devil’s Elbow. After turning onto the Trace near Golden Pond, traffic was nonexistent, which suited Traven just fine.

Traven drove cautiously because deer had been known to try to commit suicide on this road. There were Bison and Elk on the peninsula also, but thankfully they were held in a 700-acre enclosed area on the north side of 68. Roadkill possums and raccoons could be found frequently down the Trace, some of the carcasses already visited by the carrion eaters. When he got to the driveway, he could barely see the gate for the overgrown weeds. He wouldn’t clean them up anytime soon and wait to see how the situation developed. Opening the gate, he pulled through then went back to secure the gate and kicked some of the weeds upright to hide the trail of the truck and trailer tires. Everything was quiet as they drove up to the old log home. Traven unlocked the kitchen door and disabled the alarm then started carrying their bags and coolers inside. Once he had everything in he was going to bring in right then, he helped Cindy finish opening the windows to air out the place. She found a bottle of Odoban in the broom closet and began spraying the rooms, furniture, and bedspreads. He didn’t think the place smelled that bad, just a little musty. He had done a complete critter removal project two weeks ago and didn’t see any signs of mouse or roach turds.

Traven turned the power to the refrigerator on and turned the water on going to the ice maker as Cindy dragged a cooler over to the refrigerator.

“Let’s wait an hour and let it cool down.” Traven said, then switching on the power for the upright freezer. He then turned the sink faucet on and let the water run a couple of minutes.

Cindy stopped next to the stove and rubbed her temples. “What is going to happen, what is happening now?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to hook the StarLink up and see what is going on.” Traven said.
 
Chapter Two

Traven unpacked the satellite equipment and installed the antenna in its mount on the side of the log home. Once he got the switches and computer hooked up, he could stream news channels or browse with his computer. Cindy could also use the Bluetooth option to gain internet access with her cell phone. Traven checked the battery monitor for the power system, then turned the satellite system on. After a couple of adjustments, they pulled up a Fox channel and the faces of shocked newsreaders began talking about the catastrophes that had stricken America. Traven left Cindy there to get caught up on the news and said, “I’m going to unload the trailer.”

Traven backed the trailer to the kitchen door and began unloading camping equipment, water cubes, cases of Mountain House meals, guns, ammo, a camp stove, propane tanks, more tools, and extra clothing. He distributed the cargo throughout the house, much of it temporarily in the third bedroom until he could sort it a little better. When he had finally emptied the trailer, he went back to the den where Cindy watched the TV.

“What did you find out?” Traven asked.

“Well, it seems the FBI again is as confused as a queer at a weenie roast.” Cindy said. They don’t know whether it is a coordinated attack, or it is lone wolves sympathetically hitting targets, but it involves a lot of explosives, and some nuclear, as evidenced in New York.”

“Want to do some last-minute grocery shopping in Hopkinsville?” Traven asked.

“Only if we carry something more than our pistols with us.” Cindy replied.

Traven nodded, then went and checked the two CAR-15s he had unloaded. He took out six loaded magazines from an ammo can and handed three to Cindy. She loaded one magazine, chambering a round, and slid the other two into the left cargo pocket of her pants. After checking the safety, she placed the carbine next to the door. Traven got two vests out of a closet and handed the smaller one to Cindy. It had six ammo pouches, an IFAK, hydration bladder, and pockets that held small items useful for survival. “We won’t wear these into the stores.” Cindy nodded, checked to make sure she had her wallet, and carried the vest to the door to pick up her carbine. Traven locked the door behind them, and they got in the truck. They laid the carbines on the back seat within Cindy’s reach and lightly covered them with a blanket.

The 50-mile trip to Hopkinsville was uneventful except for the bevy of Highway Patrol cars sitting on the I-24 overpass at Montgomery. The Persnickety Pig parking lot was full.

“I wish this was any other day except Sunday.” Traven said.

“Why is that?” Cindy asked.

“The more the people in an area, the bigger the target.” Traven replied. “I’d like to be going to the smaller stores, but they will be closed. Only the bigger stores will be open.”

“Well, we can be quick.” Cindy said.

“We’ll stop by Save-A-Lot first, then the Walmart. Think about what you’ll want to get and get it quick.”

When they pulled into the Save-A-Lot parking lot, there was no unusual activity. People were casually walking into the store. They each grabbed a cart and headed first to the dairy section. Cindy grabbed six gallons of milk and explained to Traven. “We can pour a little out of each jug to keep the jugs from splitting and put them in the freezer.” Traven loaded fresh sausage, bacon, and cuts of beef and chicken in family packs into his cart. He didn’t say anything when she began loading feminine products into her cart. He already had plenty of those. Once, when he was left a key to water her plants, he had done a personal tour of her apartment and gotten all the information he needed. Her needs had been a part of his preparations.

Heading to checkout, Traven added bags of 6” and 8” flour and corn tortillas. They loaded everything into the trailer and headed for Walmart.

Everything was relatively calm at Walmart also, at least as much as it ever was. As they were getting their carts, Cindy asked, “How are you on toilet paper?”

“Got plenty.” Traven answered.

Cindy loaded several family sized boxes of Honey Nut Cheerios and Special K with berries in her cart and four big bags of M&Ms, two with peanuts. Traven added a 25-pound bag of Kosher salt, different stew spice packets and two 8 packs of PayDay candy bars. Before heading to the checkout, Traven steered them to the outdoor section and bought a brick of .22 long rifle, a brick of .22 shorts, four boxes of 12-gauge #7 shot, and four boxes of 12 gauge double aught buckshot. He didn’t really need them but who knew how long money would be worth anything.

They got everything loaded into the trailer and took a chance and stopped by ALDI where they bought deli meats that could be frozen, cheeses, cases of canned vegetables that could be used in soups and stews, 40 pounds of potatoes, ten pounds of onions, three dozen eggs, and fresh fruits that would store well in the cool basement.

They quickly loaded the trailer and headed to 68 but made a quick stop at a SONIC drive-in to get large, iced teas. While they were waiting in the drive through, the news on the radio had reported that a truck bomb had gone off in Clarksville, right outside the gates of Fort Campbell. Traven placed his tea in the cupholder and headed straight for Hopkinsville Road and made their way home.

It was 2100 before they got everything put away. They kept the news streaming the whole time, reporting the bomb explosions, shootings and other acts happening all over the country. Finally, tired of all the destruction, they streamed a movie. They were pretty safe where they were. After all, no one had anything against Elk, Bison, Deer, and raccoons, at least as far as they knew.

Traven awoke around 0200 and Cindy had fallen asleep also and drooled all the way through his sweatshirt. He woke her and they retired to their own separate bedrooms.

Putting the sweatshirt into the hamper, Traven stripped down to his underwear and climbed between the cool sheets. Sighing, he fell back to sleep.

The next morning, Traven was up early, made coffee and waited for Cindy to get up to see what she wanted for breakfast. He had taken a pack of bacon out of the freezer to thaw and was anticipating pancakes, bacon, and eggs. While he was waiting, he went out and unlocked the wind turbines. The PV panels would keep the battery bank charged up while he wasn’t there but with the house being occupied, he was worried the panels wouldn’t be enough. With the refrigerator and freezers running, it would be a big drain on the power system.

Traven Used the VOIP on the StarLink to call his supervisor to tell him he was taking a couple of weeks of vacation time. He was told not to worry about it. They were shutting down operations until the picture became a little clearer on what was happening, but he should just stay safe. Traven gave him his VOIP number to call if things changed and hung up. At that time, a bleary-eyed Cindy shuffled into the kitchen.

“That bed just swallows you up!” Cindy mumbled.

Traven chuckled. “That’s because I put the feather tick mattresses on once it began to get cooler. They will make you sweat in the summertime.”

“Well, it really knocked me out!” Cindy said, opening the pantry door and getting out a box of Honey Nut Cheerios. Traven got the pitcher of milk she had separated the night before and set it on the breakfast table.
“Do you want anything else?” Traven asked.

“No, this will be fine,” Cindy answered.

Traven set the frying pan on the stove burner to heat and opened the package of bacon. As the bacon was frying, he scrambled up three eggs with a fork. He checked the bacon, flipped it, and put the bacon press back down on it. Going into the pantry, he came back out with a sealed canister of blueberry pancake mix.

Traven checked the bacon and took it out of the pan to drain on paper towels. He poured off part of the bacon grease into a saver can and poured the eggs onto the hot grease. While cooking the eggs, he mixed the batter for the pancakes, scraped the pan good and poured a little of the bacon grease back into the pan, pouring pancake batter into the pan to make a large pancake. Cindy got up from the table, went to the sink to rinse her bowl out, and sneaked a piece of bacon. When she took a bite, Traven said, “Hey! I thought the cereal was enough for you!”

“But it smells so good!” Cindy drawled lazily and took another bite.

“Do you want any pancakes and eggs too?” Traven asked.

“No, this was enough.” Cindy said, taking another strip of bacon.

Traven grinned and shook his head.

“I called my supervisor, and he said the plant was closing down until the fog cleared on what was going on.” Traven said.

“I guess I should call Nancy, but knowing her, she won’t open the shop and is staying at home hiding under her bed.” Cindy said.

“Probably a wise move. I’d stay away from malls right now.” Traven replied.

Cindy was a genius at computers and worked in a computer store building custom computers. Traven believed she could build one out of washing machine parts if she needed to.

“I’ll call her to let her know I am safe anyway.” Cindy said.

Traven finished cooking his pancakes and eggs and sat down to eat. Cindy snatched a couple of bites of his pancakes and began washing the dishes in the sink. When the kitchen was cleaned up, Cindy called her friend Nancy while Traven split wood for the fireplace. He had four downed trees in the area he trimmed and dragged up with the tractor and cut them to fireplace length using a battery powered chainsaw. A wood maul took care of the rest. Once the wood rack was full, he stacked the rest between two trees next to the storage building and laid a sheet of old roofing tin on top of it. He had saved back a couple of sections of a tree for kindling and used a shingle froe his grandfather had forged to start splitting kindling.
 
Chapter Three

When Traven had arrived in Evansville with his degree in computer security, he quickly landed a job at one of the larger local banks. Everything went well, but the longer he worked there, the more he was sure they were laundering money for someone and the more uneasy he got. He finally began copying selected files and transactions to a portable drive and turned it over to the FBI field office in Indianapolis. He was assured anonymity, but the information would be a catalyst for an investigation. Traven soon found another job at All Weather Products in Evansville. They made custom windows, doors and room enclosures for builders and cut their parts out with CNC machines. Programming the CNC machines was child’s play for Traven, so he quickly integrated into the operation. In fact, as he was restoring the log home, he used his company’s products because of the employee discount.

“I need to go to Dover to pick up some things.” Traven told Cindy. “Are you going to be all right here?”

“Hell no! I’m not letting you leave me here to be eaten by a panther or bear!” Cindy cried out.

“There are not that many around here,” Traven said. “Besides, if one attacks, just stick your leg out at them. Once they chip a tooth on your pegleg, they’ll probably leave you alone.”

“Oh Hell no! I’m going with you!” Cindy said.

“Okay then, grab a jacket.” Traven said.

Cindy grabbed a windbreaker and got into the truck.

“Where is Dover?” Cindy asked.

“It’s around 29 kilometers down the Trace from here. It’s basically a small village with a few amenities.” Traven replied.

Traven drove to Dover then turned down highway 49 for a few miles to Centsable Storage. He pulled in front of a storage unit far enough to load the truck and trailer. Inside was a lot of 4” cast iron sewer pipe Traven had found at a salvage lot and a lot of boxes holding parts for a micro hydroelectric system. After emptying the unit, Traven went back to Dover to Brigham Hardware. There he selected and purchased various hardware items, then they returned to the house.

“What is all this stuff?” Cindy asked.

“Parts for a micro hydroelectric system. A containment pond is already built up the hill on a spring fed stream. All I have to do is lay the pipe for a penstock, build the generator house and install the generator. I could have made it to produce AC power and powered the house directly but opted for DC to just charge the battery bank.” Traven explained. “We might be here for a while, and I’ve got the time, so I figured I’d start on it.”

“Yeah, I’m beginning to feel like the Swiss Family Robinsons.” Cindy replied.

Traven removed the bucket from the tractor and used a boom attachment to unload the 8’ lengths of sewer pipe. It was a lot easier than when they loaded them by hand. He laid them behind the storage building where they would be easily taken up when he began building the penstock. Cindy helped as much as she could but was limited to what she could do because of her leg. Once everything was unloaded, they took a break and drank coffee.

“I need to show you something,” Traven said to Cindy.

He took her down into the basement and showed her all the supplies he had stored down there. Cindy’s eyes opened wide, and she stuttered, “When…How…?”

“I’ve been preparing for something like this for years,” Traven said.

He showed her the filled shelves, a cold room for storing vegetables, and the battery and power system room. She didn’t ask about the 500-gallon cistern, the water filtering and purifying setup or the capped water pipes coming through the wall. He was planning on running a backup water source from the holding pond to the house in case they couldn’t use the well.

Cindy walked around, checking the contents on the shelves and came upon a shelf with feminine products and stopped. “These are what I use!”

“I know. I’ve been stocking up on things you use also. I also have the brand of shampoo you use, brand of razors, body wash and soaps, and toothpaste.” Traven said.

“Well, that’s not creepy! But I appreciate what you’ve done. How did you….?”

“When I was taking care of your plants. After we started going to the range, I knew if anything happened, I wanted you to have a safe place to go to also.” Traven replied.

“Well, thank you. That is so sweet of you.” Cindy said.

“I had ulterior motives.” Traven said, wiggling his eyebrows.

She narrowed her eyes and asked, “And what is that?”

“You make homemade bread like my mother used to. I figured you’d be handy to have around.”

“You think that’s all I’m good for….to make you bread every time your stomach growls?!”

“I can think of other things, but I won’t press you on that.” Traven said.

Cindy huffed and went into the pantry, coming out with a 2 Gallon Stoneware Crock Dispenser in her arms.

“My mother used to make cool juice in that from berries, or orange or lemons if she could get them. I replaced the spigot on it.”

“Well, we didn’t pick up any lemons or oranges and the berries are a might scarce, so I guess I’ll have to use mix,” Cindy said, taking a jar of Country Time Lemonade powder off the shelf.

She started filling the crock with water and asked, “This is two gallons, isn’t it?”

When she had it fill to what she figured was the fill line, Cindy measured out the lemonade mix and stirred it with a long handled wooden spoon. She moved the crock to where the spout would be accessible on the counter and put the lid on the jar.

“Hold on a minute!” Traven said, taking another jar off a pantry shelf.

“What’s that?” Cindy asked.

“Desiccant packs,” Traven said, taking one out of the jar and throwing it into the Country Time jar. “That powder will get as hard as an eskimo’s nipples from opening the jar with just a little humidity. The desiccant packet will absorb the moisture. I keep stuff like that sealed in half-gallon jars to keep the air out.”

“And you add one of those packets?” Cindy asked.

“You got it.”

Cindy had a bit to learn but she was smart. The first time he had met her at the Rod and Gun club’s pistol range, he was impressed. She used a modified Weaver stance because of her leg but she became a real-life Valkyrie on the pistol range. She could shoot the balls off of a squirrel at 25 meters. She seemed hard but he didn’t know how she’d react if she actually had to put a round into another person.

Traven used the tractor to move the sewer pipe as close as he could to the slope, then used a block and tackle arrangement to move the pipe up to the edge of the containment pond. He built a filter box to keep trash out of the head of the penstock then began laying the pipe down the slope, sealing the joints with sealing compound. Once he reached the rock-lined ditch where he wanted to put the generator house, he held off attaching the last piece of pipe because it would have to be trimmed. The ditch ran on down the slope and would take the water back to the stream that ran into the lake. All the downspouts on the house also emptied into the ditch.

Traven got his extension cord, a grinder, his compound saw, Skill saw, and his carpenter’s belt out of the store house. The storehouse had once been the home of his grandfathers up until they died. His father had built the sprawling log house they lived in up until they moved to Hoptown. When he started restoring the place, the cabin had been in good condition, so Traven converted it into a storage building.

Cindy came out to help him and quickly showed she was skilled with hand tools. By evening, they were finished except for the roofing on the generator house. Traven cut good pieces out of the discarded roofing tin he had taken off the house and finished the roof.

Cindy had made a pot of beef stew before she came out to help and just had to put the two bread pans into the oven for thirty minutes to have supper ready.

“You made bread?!” Traven said.

“Well, you did tell me it was the main reason you let me come down here.”

“And don’t forget I said I could think of other things you could do too.” Traven said, grinning.

“Oh, I haven’t!” Cindy replied, smiling softly back at him.

The next morning Traven finished assembling the generator and opened the penstock to check the voltage output. After making as few adjustments in the water flow, he grinned at his accomplishment. Though the sun could quit shining, and the wind could quit blowing, he could still keep the battery bank charged. Along with the 2000W 8KWH Solar/Wind Power Kit: 2*400W Wind Turbines + 6*200W Solar panels he could stay off grid for a while.

The night before, Traven thought he had heard a horn blowing from the direction of Gray Point. It was an area to his northwest where sometimes young people went down to the sandy beach there and spent the day. The sand was firm enough you could drive on it and made a good place to spend the day sunning or “partying”. He’d even had to put out a couple of campfires and pick up trash. It was annoying because even if it wasn’t on his property he still hated to see the area trashed by irresponsible tourists. They should leave nothing but footprints when they visited.

Traven filled his Camelbak, put two contractor’s trash bags into a day pack and told Cindy where he was going and why. She locked the door when he left, and he picked up the trail to Gray Point.

Traven found a smoldering fire pit with beer cans and fast-food wrappers scattered around. Cursing to himself, Traven took out a trash bag and began filling it. After cleaning up the area, Traven began making his way back home and almost stepped into a pile of human feces when he was back within his property boundary. Bears didn’t use napkins to clean their behind. Traven continued carefully back to the house and set the trash bag aside. He knocked on the door to make sure Cindy didn’t mistake him for a bear.

Cindy unlocked the door and Traven first noted that she was armed, and her pistol was unstrapped.

“I need to go back to the hardware store in Dover.” Traven said.

Cindy put on a jacket, and they left quickly.

When they got to Dover, Traven stopped at a public dumpster and threw the bag of trash from Gray point in, then they headed for Bingham’s.

Traven purchased various chemicals, two boxes of fence staples, and three rolls of barbed wire.

When they got back to the house, Traven got out some plastic tubs from the storage building and jugs of white vinegar out of the basement. He first soaked the rolls of barbed wire in diluted muriatic acid to remove any galvanization, let them dry then soaked them in a solution of white vinegar, table salt, and hydrogen peroxide to make it rust. He did the same thing to the fence staples. This would make the wire and staples rust quickly. When the wire was stapled between the trees within his property line, it was invisible until you ran into it.
 
Chapter Four

If the terrorists’ goal was to shut down Wall Street operations, then they were mistaken. First, their bomb had been a dirty bomb, not a SADM device. In respect, it caused some damage and spread a lot of radiation which with effort and a lot of money could be cleaned up. Second, They had hit Wall Street on a Sunday and basically closed the area. Those big companies had contingency plans in case of something like this and operations were removed to remote sites. Remote data storage backup allowed them to continue operations quickly. Instead of taking a lot of lives, the terrorists had actually saved lives by setting off the device on a Sunday.

In Chicago, everything from West Monroe Street at Wacker Drive to the Lake and West Roosevelt Road at Wels Street to the Lake were protected by what seemed like thousands of soldiers and Coast Guard vessels. Some reported Navy SEALs were patrolling in riverine vessels off the shore, but then again they had reported tanks in downtown Chicago, but Traven had only seen Bradley and Stryker Fighting Vehicles. He saw some arm patches of 82nd Airborne paratroopers mainly. Sandbagged positions manned with man-packed antiarmor weapons were tactically spread all over the place and the soldiers demonstrated no-nonsense attitudes. The Chicago Board of Trade was secure.

Most of the lone wolf attacks changed to taking out power transformers but they were slowly being squashed out by private citizens guarding their own areas. What politicians had said an AR-15 was no good for hunting? Tell a terrorist that. Militias self- activated and some County Sheriffs were coordinating with them to secure their counties.

It took Traven two meals to finish off the two loaves of bread Cindy had made so she was making more. They had eaten a loaf and part of another with the beef stew, then Traven had sliced and toasted the rest of the second one that morning and made creamed chipped beef gravy that morning.

There were only four loaf pans in the kitchen, so she was making four loaves and one big round loaf in a Dutch oven. Cindy had never seen a man eat so much bread. She wondered why he wasn’t bloated out like a pregnant hog.

But Traven worked off every calorie he consumed. He was cutting more dead trees and cutting them up for firewood and using a scythe to cut the tall weeds from the field around the house. Cindy had watched Traven sharpening the scythe blade with a pedal grinder then a hand honing stone and saw the words printed into the blade base.

“Is that made in Austria?” She asked.

“Well, the blade is, there are no scythe manufacturers left in the United States. The man I got this from down near Shiloh forms and makes the snaths, that’s the handle, and but buys his blades from Austria. I had to go down so he could custom fit the snath for me.” Traven said.

It took him all day to cut the field up to the bramble and blackberry patches that surrounded the field and rake the cuttings into windrows to be hauled to the compost area with the tractor and trailer. He could have saved the fuel and hauled the clippings in a wheelbarrow, but he really didn’t use that much fuel, and he needed more time to split wood.

The leaves had dropped off the trees and you could see farther through the forest. Traven came down from the attic with an armload of black cloth and set it down on the couch.

“What is that?” Cindy asked.

“Blackout curtains. You can see light through the trees at night farther now that the trees have shed their leaves. These snap over the windows during the night to keep light from shining out. Each one has snaps to attach to snap screws on the window frame and you can roll them up during the day to let light in or to open a window.”
Traven showed her how to attach the curtains to the snap screws in the window frame and how to hold the rolled-up curtain with the Velcro straps. After the curtains had been attached to all the window openings, they had corned beef with fried potatoes and cornbread for supper.

Cindy got up and saw a fire burning in the fireplace and smelled coffee but couldn’t find Traven. The blackout curtain over the window above the sink was rolled up. She finally found him sitting on the porch in the sunshine drinking coffee and just staring in the direction of the lake.

“What do you have planned for the day?” She asked.

“Nothing. It is a day of rest. Today is Sunday.” Traven said.

“We’ve been here a week?!” Cindy exclaimed.

“Yep.” Traven said, taking another sip of his coffee.

Cindy pulled her robe tighter to her against the cool air and said, “Oh God!” and went back into the house.
Cindy cooked oatmeal, fried eggs, and sausage for breakfast. Traven made a small pan of buttermilk biscuits also. He had almost forgotten he had an opened can of buttermilk powder in the pantry and wanted to use it up before it expired.

When they finished cleaning up from breakfast, Traven asked Cindy is she’d like to go for a walk.
“I don’t know. I’m feeling a little tired this morning. I wish I’d remembered to pack my body pillow.” Cindy replied.

Oh, come on. You probably slept too hard last night. The air will perk you right up.”

While Cindy got dressed, Traven checked the closet in his parent’s old bedroom where he was sleeping. Yep, he found it on the top shelf of the closet. His mother had bought a body pillow once but only used it a couple of times before just snuggling with his father, something they had he kidded her about several times. It was in a plastic bag with a lavender scented packet. He picked up a daypack and went to the front porch. Cindy soon came out and as they passed the storage building, Traven went inside and took a 20-pound Deer Cane Mineral Block off a shelf and stuffed it into the day pack, adding a 6-foot length of baling wire he cut off a roll hanging from a nail.

“What’s in there?” Cindy asked, pointing to the day bag.

“A mineral block for the deer.” Traven replied.

“I thought you weren’t going to work today!” Cindy said.

“It’s not work….it’s an adventure!” Traven said grinning.

Traven led her down through the woods, the fallen leaves rustling under their footsteps. Traven slowed his pace as they came to a game trail. Traven followed the trail and studied it as they went along. Finally, they came to the sandy shore of the lake dotted with deer tracks. Traven went back into the woods just off the game trail, looked around, and selecting a spot, dropped the day pack. He took the wire and the mineral block out of the pack. He used his pocketknife to skin the plastic wrap off the block, ran the wire through the hole in the block and secured the block about four feet above the ground to a tree. After putting the day pack back on, Traven continued their walk along the lakeshore in a looping route back to the house.

They streamed a Hallmark movie Cindy had selected, made grilled ham and cheese sandwiches for supper and just before bedtime, Traven went to get the body pillow and gave it to Cindy. She grinned and thanked him, and they went to get ready for bed. Later, awakened by his door opening, Traven slid his hand under his pillow and fisted his pistol. He heard the shuffling of slippers on the floor, then a voice: “That pillow doesn’t feel right. Scooch over.”

Traven slid over and Cindy got under the covers. After pulling the sheet and quilt up to her chin, he laid his arm over her as she snuggled back against him.

Traven awoke in the middle of the night in the darkened room. He was laying on his right side, facing the closest wall with Cindy plastered to his back like a second skin, her arm across his body tugging him to her. He lay there for several seconds, trying to think, then drifted back to sleep.

The news programs the next morning had nothing new to report, so they filled their time with distractions like companies explaining their latest in explosive detection equipment; to Psychiatrists psychoanalyzing the minds of lone wolf terrorists; to mapping the sites of terror attacks on a large studio map. Then came a flurry of videos covering cleanup and repair operations. Nothing had happened near them for the last 24 hours, so Traven lost interest and went to split firewood.

Around 1030 Cindy came out with a large, stoneware coffee mug with steam flowing off it. Traven set the splitting mall down and took the cup, sniffed the steam, then took a sip. It was mocha! “This is good!” He said.
“I found a stovetop espresso maker in the back of the pantry and thought you could use something to give you a boost of energy.” Cindy said.

“Well, it does, and it is delicious! That was my mother’s pot. She liked the occasional espresso on a dreary day. My father gave her that pot as a Christmas present one year when I was young.” Traven replied.

Traven sat down on the splitting stump and savored the mocha.

“I’m sorry for sneaking into your room last night,” Cindy said contritely.

“Oh yeah. What happened…what made you do it?” Traven asked, wiping a dribble of mocha from his mouth.
“The body pillow was nice, but just wasn’t enough. I needed to snuggle up to something warm and solid.” Cindy said, her face coloring slightly.

Traven grinned. “You’re forgiven. It was quite nice once I got over the shock.”

Traven drained the mug, and Cindy took it out of his hands and returned it to the house.

Traven watched her walk up the stairs then picked the maul back up.

At dusk, Traven wiped the maul head with an oily rag, put it back in the rack, and headed to the house for supper.

He washed up and went into the kitchen. She had prepared meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and had opened a jar of home canned green beans, one of several he had picked up at a roadside market earlier in the summer. And she had made a pan of yeast rolls. Cindy filled their plates at the stove, giving him two rolls, and set his plate in front of him.

He sat down and poured lemonade from the pitcher sitting on the table into his glass. Every time he saw that particular pitcher he wanted to smile. It reminded him of the animated pitcher he used to see in the KOOL-AID commercials on TV.

“This smells wonderful!” Traven said.

And it was! Traven savored every bite. He constantly buttered his roll after he took a bite and cleaned his plate. Traven wiped his plate with the last of the third roll he was on, popped it into his mouth and sighed.
“The only thing that would make this an even more perfect meal would be a bowl of cold banana pudding.” Traven said.

“Do you have room for it now?” Cindy asked, getting up from the table.

An astonished Traven watched as she walked to the refrigerator and got out a bowl.

“Well, it’s not real banana pudding and I didn’t have any vanilla wafers, but I did find a box of Jello Banana Cream pudding in the pantry.” Cindy said.

Traven took a spoonful of the pudding and rolled it around his mouth. It tasted faintly like the custard used to make banana pudding….the vanilla wafers, he would just imagine them. He scraped every bit of the pudding he could get out of the dish with his spoon and grinned at Cindy.

“You have outdone yourself, madam. You can use me for a body pillow any time you want.”

“You were just hungry. You did skip lunch and kept on splitting wood.” Cindy said.

“I’m serious! That was the best meal I’ve eaten in years!” Traven countered.

Traven cleared his dishes and started rinsing them in the sink. He squirted detergent into the plastic dish pan and began filling it with hot water, setting his dishes and utensils one by one into the water. Cindy brought her dishes over, rinsed them, then added them to the dish pan and started washing. Traven spread a couple of dish towels on the counter to drain the dishes on and got out another towel to dry the dishes with.

When they had finished washing and putting the dishes away, Traven took the towels into the utility room to hang on a line to dry while Cindy finished wiping the counters and table down. Cindy put a movie in the DVD player and they watched Swiss Family Robinson until they went to bed.
 
Chapter Five

“Want to go down to Dover with me? I want to get one of those dish drainer thingies, and more bread loaf pans and more eggs. I think we can get everything at Bringham’s Hardware.

“I don’t think you’ll find the eggs there.” Cindy said. “We need some chickens.”

“I’ve got about ten #10 cans of powdered eggs and a few cans of powdered egg whites that can do us until we can find some chickens. There is a Tractor Supply on the other side of the river from Dover. People sometimes leave notices on the bulletin board there when they have livestock for sale.” Traven said.

“Can we chance gong back into Hoptown to grab stuff? We’ll probably find it quicker.” Cindy asked.

“I guess we could. There hasn’t been any terrorist activity reported near there, which could be another worry. You’d think the lone wolves would be hitting a lot of smaller towns. They would have a better chance of getting away and spread terror even quicker.” Traven said. “Let’s go ahead and give it a try anyway.”

They got their vests and filled the hydration bladders, checked the carbines then lay them on the back seat and covered them with a blanket.

Traven drove up the Trace to 68 and turned right to Hopkinsville.

“Why do you keep a blanket on the back seat all the time?” Cindy asked.

“It reminds me of my teenage years.” Traven said, grinning at Cindy.

“Well Mister, you are SOL on that. I seem to be the only female around and I don’t do back seats!”

“YES MA’AM!” Traven said, still grinning at Cindy.

As they neared Hopkinsville they discussed where to go.

“Let’s stop at Save-A-Lot first and get eggs. If we see something else we can grab it. We need more brown sugar too.” Cindy said.

“I have two 5-gallon buckets in the basement, but we can pick more up.”

“Sorry, I haven’t inventoried anything down there yet.” Cindy said.

“Remind me to give you the food inventory sheets when we get back.” Traven replied.

“Yes, that would be helpful. What about raisins?” Cindy asked. “I like raisins in my oatmeal.”

“There are cans of raisins in the basement also.”

Traven stopped at the first service station they came to and filled his diesel tanks and two 5-gallon cans with gas. When they got to Save-A-Lot Cindy loaded three dozen eggs into the cart, and they quickly toured the aisles. A case of Pizza maker kits from this section, brown sugar from another. A case of mixed fruit, cases of tomato sauce, orange juice concentrate, egg noodles, Jello and Jello Pudding mixes had to be put in another cart. They checked out and loaded their purchases in the trailer and headed to Walmart.

“Walmart has a Lodge display for cast iron cookware. If you want anything else, let’s get two carts and split up.” Traven said.

They both grabbed carts as the entered the Supercenter with Cindy splitting off and Traven headed to the cookware section. He found cast iron loaf pans in the Lodge display and also picked out two muffin tins. He picked out three Tuff storage containers with lids then headed to the food area. In the cookie section, he grabbed two packs of Lemon Oreos, and two Fig Newtons. He bumped into Cindy, she had more gallons of milk, some grapes, and several packs of bacon. They both ended up in the baking section where Traven picked up three packs of cupcake liners and Cindy loaded down with cans of different cream cheese frostings. Traven thought that was interesting. They each had what they wanted to get, and Traven topped each cart off with a 30-pack of toilet paper. They got to a checkout line and Cindy asked if he had gotten the dish rack.
Clay closed his eyes and said “Crap!” Then left Cindy with the carts and hurried to housewares.

They quickly loaded the trailer and started to head out of town. Traven mumbled “$#&@$ it! I’m going to take a chance”, then made a couple of quick turns and headed north.

“Where are we going?” Cindy asked.

“Crofton Country Cupboard, up near Crofton. It’s a Mennonite store that will probably have some things you’d like to try and some you will really like. I can cut west after we leave there and come back down a different road and catch the beltway and 68 without having to come back into Hoptown.”

It was only a 15-minute drive to the store and Cindy was amazed when they walked in. There were shelves lined with everything you could think of. The place made Traven’s mouth water. He picked out jars of three bean salad, different relishes, watermelon rind pickles, candied watermelon rind, jars of hot peppers, and big round sticks of different sausages and dried meats. He filled the shopping cart and went to check out. While the woman at the register added up his purchases he mentioned he wasn’t nearly finished shopping yet, she told him she would finish checking this cart out and for him to get another cart and continue his shopping. And that was what he did. The first thing he put in his new cart were gallon jugs of honey, maple syrup and sorghum syrup. They would be used mainly in cooking, but he also liked to mix the sorghum syrup with butter and eat it on biscuits, same thing with the honey.

When he caught up with Cindy again she had bulk bags of homemade peppermint and rock candies of different flavors, a couple of jars of canned something and a corn broom. They put her selections in the cart and Traven stuck the broom in the cart frame sticking up like a flag.

“Now you can see me and know where I am at.” Traven told Cindy.

Cindy picked out two cookbooks, bags of nuts and jars of pie fillings and placed them in the cart.

Traven looked at her selections and asked why she was getting them.

“Thanksgiving is just around the corner; This is for pies and cakes. We will need to buy a turkey too.” Cindy replied.

“I’ll get a turkey. Just remember, there’s just two of us. I can only eat so much.”

Cindy continued shopping for things that would complement a Thanksgiving meal.

When they returned to the checkout counter, the cart was full. They lady quickly tallied their selections. In all, they spent over $1,000. After loading the trailer, Traven went back toward Hoptown and stopped at a service station to use their ATM to replenish some of his cash. They turned west on another road and then turned south on another road until they hit the beltway around Hoptown. After getting on the beltway, there were only a couple of exits before they were back on 68. Traven stopped in Cadiz to again use an ATM to get cash. When they got back to the Trace, they passed a Forest Service pickup truck headed north but that was the only traffic they encountered.

After they put everything away, Cindy washed and began seasoning the cast iron pans. Traven printed her up a copy of the food inventory and showed her where the LTS cookbooks were in a kitchen cabinet.

After breakfast the next morning, Traven returned to the wood pile and started to split more wood. Cindy came out and asked if they were going to look for chickens today.

Traven put the splitting maul back down and asked if she was ready to go now.

“Sure! Let’s go!”

They got into the Travelall and headed down the trace. Passing through Dover, they could see few people were stirring yet. Tractor Supply was only about four miles after they crossed the Cumberland River at Dover. There were about a half dozen vehicles in the parking lot when they arrived. They went directly to the bulletin board and began checking handwritten notices. They found an advertisement from what was apparently a woman saying she had Lohmann Brown chickens for sale. Cindy called her to get directions to her house and they drove over to look at them. They yet had to build a coop for them. The chickens were healthy looking and laid large brown eggs. The lady said each hen usually laid an egg a day, but not all the time. She said since it was just the two of them, they could get by with six to eight hens and a rooster if they wanted to raise hatchlings. Generally, Lohmann Browns start laying eggs at around 19 weeks old. Cindy told Traven they should get ten hens and if it were too many for them to use, they could freeze the eggs, but they would need ice trays, preferably those silicon ones if they could get them. Cindy told the lady they would like to buy ten hens and a rooster, but they had to build a chicken coop first. The lady said that was fine but not to tarry. She had to thin out the flock and would start killing some before too long. Traven and Cindy returned to Tractor Supply to look around and found they carried supplies from feed to brooder boxes to nesting boxes. Traven looked them over, took a few measurements and decided he could build most of everything himself instead of paying the prices they were asking. He would need to get heaters and run electricity to the coop and would use the fencing panels to build a movable chicken run to speed up construction. Traven had most of the materials to build the coop on wheels so he could move it around with the tractor but bought a roll of small mesh wire for the windows and some solid wheelbarrow tires and two axles. He would come back with the trailer when he needed the rest of the things. Cindy bought two pairs of bibbed overalls she could work in outside and some work gloves.

They went back home, and Cindy helped Traven sort through the boards Traven had salvaged when he had pulled down a barn and an old outbuilding. Traven sketched his plans and began building the base frame and floor that afternoon while Cindy was preparing supper. With her help, he could finish it the next day.

After breakfast the next morning, Cindy went out with Traven, and they put together and stood the walls up. They put up the board and batten siding and Cindy began cutting and stapling the wire over the window openings while Traven built drop-down window coverings and roof trusses. By noon, Traven was ready to put the trusses on the coop. They had sandwiches for lunch and quickly got back to work. Cindy helped Traven position the trusses and hold them in place while he screwed them down. Traven sorted, cut the old roofing tin, and screwed it to the purlins. With a coat of roofing paint, the coop was ready for chickens, except for building the run out of fence panels and installing waters and feeders. The last thing he had to do was to attach the old car jacks to raise the coop to put on the tires and connect it to the hitch bar on the tractor to move it. Cindy called the lady to tell her they would be by the next afternoon to get the chickens. The lady said she could catch the chickens and have them ready in crates if they return the crates. Cindy assured her they would.
 
Chapter Six

The next morning Traven with Cindy (grumbling about panthers and bears) riding shotgun were back early at Tractor Supply. They loaded fencing panels in first then automatic waterers, feeders, 50-pound bags of chicken feed, bags of crushed oyster shell and grit, scratch grain, bedding and a bale of nesting box pads. They hurried home and Cindy hastily spread the bedding and lined the nesting boxes while Traven Set up the fencing panels for a run and panels on top to keep the hawks and eagles out. He hung the feeders and oyster shell and grit containers. He ran the pipe from a 55-gallon drum to hang the automatic waterers to then filled the drum with water with a garden hose. Traven’s future plan was to hang guttering and let rainwater fill the drum. For now, Traven was going to store the excess feed and bedding in the storage building but he had a movable feed building on log skids as a future project. He wanted to wait until he figured the feed consumption of the chickens so he would know how much feed he needed to have on hand to feed the chickens for four months. Hopefully, feeding in the movable feed run would cut back on the amount of commercial feed they would have to feed them. Before they left to pick up the chickens, They spread a few handfuls of scratch grains in the run.
When they picked the chickens up, Mrs. Hasty, true to her words, had them in chicken crates.

Mrs. Hasty had asked $45 for the ten chickens and Traven had given Cindy three twenties before they left the house and told her not to accept any change from the old lady.

When they got home, Cindy cuddled, rubbed and cooed to each chicken as she took them out of the crates. The chickens liked it so much they didn’t want to move away from her. Then they spied the scratch grain and they were off.

Traven, holding a brace and bit in his hand, called out for Cindy to come out on the porch. He had her stand by the corner porch post and adjusted her body in several positions. Satisfied, he had her stand aside while he drilled a hole in the post and pounded in a whittled peg into the hole. Traven went inside and opened his gun closet and brought out a Rock Island M14Y bolt action .22 Rifle fitted with a Leupold VX-2 3-9x40mm scope he had bought off a man at the range. The man had bought it for his son but his wife didn’t want her son to have it because the pre-teen wanted to start dressing like a girl. Traven had a low friend from a low place tap the rifle for a .22 muffler. Screwing the Surefire can onto the barrel, Traven picket up a box of long rifle ammo and a target and went back on the porch. Traven pinned the target sheet on a tree 60 yards away and went back and loaded the magazine then handed it to Cindy. He talked her through how to fire and she was finally confident she could shoot the weapon. She loaded a magazine, chambered a round and using the wooden peg for a rest, hit the target in the ring, but off center. Traven had her fire two more times then made some adjustments to the scope. The other seven rounds were dead center.

“That’s quiet!” Cindy said.

“I don’t want anyone hearing gunshots from here.” Traven said. I’m going to keep the gun loaded next to the kitchen door. If you ever hear the chickens making a lot of racket, it probably will be a fox or coyote trying to get to them. We have a bunch around here. Aim for their heads if you can or hit them just behind their front leg,” He said, tapping her where she should aim. “But don’t shoot at the hawks or eagles. They are protected. Just yell and wave your arms. They’ll fly away.”

They turned to go back in and Cindy said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you. But what is that antenna looking thing up there on the side of the house?”

Cindy pointed and Traven looked up.

“That’s a cell phone booster. It turns a weak signal into a stronger signal. Much of the peninsula has weak cell phone reception. That’s why you can use your phone in the house and combined with the direct to cell technology of the StarLink, we have as good of reception as we did in Evansville.” Traven explained.

“I thought I had to come outside for reception!” Cindy said.

“You’ve seen me using my cell in the house!” Traven replied.

“Yeah, but I guess I just wasn’t paying attention.” Cindy murmured. “Then her face brightened. “That means I can use my tablet in the house?!”

Traven grinned at her expression. “Yep!”

Cindy dashed into the house to her bedroom and came out with her tablet. She was sitting in the breakfast nook bent over her tablet when Traven went out to split wood.

Traven thought as he split the wood. He liked having a link to the outside world, especially for current information, but too many people were addicted to electronic devices and social media for their own good. Sometimes the StarLink was too much for him. He considered it a luxury to have. Perhaps a necessary evil.
Traven looked over his pile of logs and frowned. He had enough to last the winter, but he was going to have to come up with a way to haul logs a longer distance by the next summer. He hadn’t thought that far enough out, only preparing for only staying a few weeks, at most, in an emergency. He would give himself a few weeks then hopefully he would come up with a solution. The government, though, had gone into full-tilt recovery mode. The financial district in New York wasn’t down for the count, just relocated. The money brokers may have been kicked out of the temple but they refused to release power that they had struggled so many years to accumulate. It was costing billions of taxpayer dollars, but they were settling back into their seats of power. All efforts were put forward to round up everyone who had anything remotely to do with the attempted assassination of the country and justice was swift. Some were calling it a witch hunt, but many more were calling for extrajudicial summary executions, some of which were actually taking place due to activities of paramilitary civilian groups.

Traven took a break to stack the split wood between two nearby trees. He estimated, without the use of a measuring tape, he had split about a quarter of a cord, Extending his bread, he walked to the house to get a drink of water. Shaken out of her mesmerization with her iPad by Traven’s entrance, Cindy stood up and watched as Traven got a glass down and drew it full of water at the sink.

“What is the news?” Traven asked after taking a long drink, almost draining the glass, then refilling it.
“There were thousands killed due to the bombs and plane crashes and many from causative effects. I watched some YouTube videos of the destruction and speeches and everyone seems shaky.” Cindy said.

“All the more reason to stay right where we are. Scared people who don’t know what they are doing can become dangerous in a second.” Traven replied.

“I am in agreement with that. There is a mad populace screaming for eliminations of ethnic groups they believed responsible for the destruction. I wouldn’t want to get in between them.”

“We’re out of the way and much safer here.” Traven said.

“I know. I just feel sorry for all those people who were injured or lost someone. I wish there were some way to help.”

“Well, the best way we can help right now is to stay out of the way. A time will come when we can safely help. I don’t think either of us has the skills to help out where the real help is needed right now.”

“Yes, the military has moved every unit dealing with nuclear and biological contamination to New York city for the recovery and cleanup. I know Jack about that.”

Traven set his glass on the counter, and spotted the dough bowl out and the bread pans sitting off to the right.

“You’re making bread?”

“I thought I would to take my mind off of things. I can only take so much from social media.”

“Just remember to take all of that with a grain of salt. People tend to include their emotions in their posts and they can be irrational at times like these. Read them to get the mindset of the people to gather information only. Don’t take them to heart.”

“I know, I will.

Traven walked out onto the porch, Cindy following close behind. The way the sun was shining through the trees was almost like a stained-glass window, Traven took off his Cambray shirt and hung it over the back of the rocking chair and went back to splitting wood.

Traven’s next break was when Cindy called him in for lunch. Traven washed off at the hand pump and put on his shirt before going in.

The smell of baking bread filled the house. Washing his hands (this time with soap) he Drew a glass of water and set down at the table. Cindy set a plate of pulled pork BBQ on a freshly baked roll in front of him.

“I hope you don’t mind. I found a package of the BBQ in the freezer.” Cindy said.

“Oh yes! I bought that at Smoke Brothers Kitchen on the other side of the lake. They aren’t open all the time, depending on the availability of hogs, but it is good. That’s what I put it in there for….to eat.”

Adding a little Texas Pete to his sandwich, Traven took a bite and savored the flavors. He quickly finished the sandwich and drained his glass of water.

“Do you want another?” Cindy asked.

“No, that’s plenty. Maybe for supper.” Traven replied.

Traven turned and went over to the cellar door. Carefully going down the stairs, he went to a shelf and took a paper wrapped package from a box and went back upstairs.

He unwrapped the paper from the block and threw the paper in the woodbox.

“What is that?” Cindy asked.

“Soap on a rope!” Traven grinned. “Theres a lady down near Parks that makes this homemade lye soap and puts a rope in it to hang at farm pumps to wash up with. It’s a little late in the year for that, but it is still refreshing. That reminds me, I want to put up a towel box at the pump to keep a towel and the soap in.”

Cindy watched as he went out the door. (His mind is going all the time!). Cindy thought.

Traven set the bar of soap on a side table on the porch and went to the store house. He got a couple of wide boards, hardware and tools to build a weather-tight box with doors. Cutting a post with a bowsaw, he got his post hole diggers and set the post next to the pump. After nailing the box to the post, he went inside where Cindy found him an old towel he could have and he placed the soap on a hoop and the towel on a swing-out bar in the box. Staring at the box a second, Traven got the brace and bit and after removing the soap and towel, drilled vent holes under the roof eave of the box. The sun would heat up the box and the towel would dry in the box now.
 
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Chapter Seven

Traven went back into the house as if he had a purpose. Going over to the pull-down attic ladder, he pulled the chain and extended the ladder down. He asked Cindy to help him and climbed up.

“You want me to come up there?”

“No, just wait and grab the boxes as I hand them down,” Traven said.

The bigger boxes were kind of heavy and Cindy struggled a little with them, but she managed.
Traven climbed back down the ladder and closed the access.

“What is all this?” Cindy asked.

“Spare transportation,” Traven said, popping the staples out of one end of a box with a screwdriver.
Sliding the frame out of the box revealed a XPeak High-Step eBike off-road electric bike.

“It looks like a bicycle.” Cindy said.

“It is, but it is also electric. I got the idea from watching that guy on those Destination Adventure videos on You Tube. You can get 40 kilometers of cruising with these things, and they are relatively quiet."

Once he had the first bike assembled, Traven opened another box, which looked like it had been opened before and took out a leather bag that attached to the handlebars with snap straps. Opening the bag, he showed Cindy the various tools for bike repairs, a patch kit for the tires, a tire pressure gauge, and a spare sawyer water filter. A quart water bottle from the same box was attached to the frame.

“I’ll have to charge the batteries tonight, but we can go riding tomorrow.”

“What’s with that water filter thingy?” Cindy asked.

“There’s already one in your vest, but I thought it might be helpful to have a spare on the bike too.”

“How does it work?” Cindy asked.

Traven mentally slapped himself on the forehead. He’d forgotten to show her how to use everything in her vest. Taking the filter bag out of the accessory bag, he took it over to the sink and showed her how to operate the filter.

“I can use this with any water?” Cindy asked.

“Well, preferably water from a running stream. Standing water could have too many bacteria in it. I wouldn’t drink water from the lake, but you’ll find plenty of streams running into it.”

He rolled the bike out on the porch and began assembly of the second bike. When he was finished, Traven began cutting the boxes into small pieces to use for starting fires, saving one box to save the pieces in. Cindy got another box cutter and helped him.

After putting the batteries on a charger in a storeroom next to the storage house, Traven returned to the house as Cindy was setting plates with sandwiches and pasta salad out.

Traven was up before daylight the next morning, made coffee and sat on the porch until the coffee perked. Cindy soon came out, wrapped in a blanket.

“Why are you up so early?!” Cindy asked.

“Sorry if I woke you. I had some things I wanted to do early this morning.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want some breakfast?”

“No, that’s fine, I’ll get something when I return.”

“You’re going somewhere?”

“Just a short trip after daylight.”

“Well, lock the door when you leave. I’m going back to bed.”

Traven chuckled to himself and went in to get a mug of coffee.

After Traven finished his mug of coffee, he went and took the batteries off of the charger. He mounted one on a bike and headed out just at “Can See”, taking a heavily traveled game trail to where he had a mineral block set out. He stopped well short of the mineral block and left the bike, moving slowly to his destination. Sure enough, he first saw two doe deer sniffing around the block, then started licking it. Traven set quietly as they enjoyed their treat until a buck came out of the trees and approached them, causing them to move away. Traven had seen enough. He made his way back to the bike and rode back to the house, switching trails occasionally to keep to the more level areas and using the electric motor. As he peddled up at last to the cabin, he took the battery out and returned it to the charger. Going into the house, he found Cindy stirring a pot of oatmeal at the stove.
“I thought you were going to go back to sleep.” Traven said.

“I tried, then decided to get up and start on breakfast for you.”

“You’re a sweetheart!”

After breakfast, Traven and Cindy cleaned up the dishes and kitchen, then Traven headed for the cellar. He went to a cabinet and got his compound bow case out, placed the frame into a bow press then removed the cams. He hadn’t known how long the bow would be stored before use, so he had removed the cables and string. Once he had everything restrung and measured, he got out his quiver, a handful of arrows, and a 6-Sided Foam Archery Target. Opening the outside cellar door, he carried everything and set up a range in the field in front of the cabin. There was a good breeze, so it was good practice estimating the lead on the target. Early in the morning, there wouldn’t be any wind, especially in the area he had visited that morning, so he made sure his sight was right on. Traven screwed in bullet point tips onto the arrows and practiced for three hours. When he finished practicing, he replaced the bullet point tips with Muzzy Trocar HBX Hybrid broadheads, which were approximately the same weight as the bullet points. The next morning, he was going to try for that buck.

Traven was up at 0300 and showered with scent killer bath soap, used scent killer deodorant and dressed in his hunting clothes. The clothes had been cleaned with scent killer detergent before storage. Going out to the storage house, Traven picked up a game cart and a field bag which contained deer drag, a Gambrel System, and a field cleaning kit.

The drag harness was the only hunter orange he would have on. If someone spotted him they were trespassing and he was not being stealthy enough. He took the game cart to about 300 meters from his intended hide and left it there. He would drag the deer to the cart, then load it.

He sat at his hide site on past dawn, then around 0700 a doe appeared. Traven slipped an arrow out of the quiver and readied himself. The doe seemed nervous, sniffing and looking around. Suddenly, she alerted and trotted off. Disgusted, Traven started to get up then spotted a rack over the bushes. Suddenly, an elk appeared coming through the brush. Whoa! This elk was about sixteen kilometers off of its established turf north of highway 68. Too bad for him. Traven watched the bull walk around, sniffing its way to the mineral block. The bull finally began licking the block, giving Traven a perfect angle. Traven took aim and rose slowly until he was ready to release the arrow. The arrow flew true and hit the perfect spot. The bull flinched then bound away through the trees. Traven was confident with the broadhead tip that was used, the bull wouldn’t go far, but it was pretty big. He didn’t look forward to dragging an elk back that far, so he went to the cart and retrieved the field kit pack. He tracked the blood trail for almost a half of a mile before he came upon the dead animal. Looking around, he found a tree branch and strung the gambrel up. dragging the bull over, foot by foot, he finally got the bull strung up and field dressed the elk. Not wanting to damage the hide, he carefully gutted the elk and removed the hide. He had a dozen salt-alum tanning kits in storage and wanted to tan the hide. Once he had the hide off, he quartered the carcass and placed the meat in game bags from his field kit. He removed his Game Cleaning Gloves and headed back to retrieve the cart. It was going to be a lot of walking for an elk burger!

Once he had the meat loaded on the cart, he pushed it on level areas and pulled it up slopes. He finally reached the cabin and parked the cart. Getting a couple of sawhorses out, he made a cutting table out of the sawhorses and boards. He got out his field cleaning kit from the field bag, removed the bone saw, and began cutting roasts. Cindy came out and began wrapping the meat in butcher paper, food wrap and aluminum foil. She saved out one roast and took it inside, adding it to a Dutch oven with potatoes, carrots, and onions. When they finally got the elk processed, they carried the packages in and arranged them in the freezer. The Dutch oven had steam leaking from around the lid so Cindy crushed four cloves of garlic with a garlic press over the contents added three tablespoons of vegetable oil, and a little salt.

Taking the bandana from around her neck, she wiped the sweat off her face and leaned against the counter.

“That was a lot of work!”

“Yeah, but we’ll eat good.” Traven replied.

Traven took the cart and his kit, along with the hide over to the storage house. Putting the cart away, he took the kit to the pump and washed everything, laying the knives, saw and hatchet on the porch to dry. Getting out one of the tanning kits, he pulled out the instructions and began to read. The Complete Kit included: A How-To Video, a Step-By-Step book, 1 Double Pack of Tanning Crystals, 2 bottles of Tanning Oil, Hide Scraper, Sandpaper, Needle & Thread, Dust Mask, Plastic Apron, 4'x 8' Plastic Sheet, Leather Dye, and Latex gloves. The instructions also gave a web link for the video so he left everything where it was and went inside to watch it.

Traven took notes as he watched the video. The instructions had the same information, but he could commit it to memory better if he took notes. Returning to the storage house, he rolled out the hide and began fleshing the hide. When he finally was satisfied with his work, he sewed the hole in the hide where the broadhead had penetrated and spread the tanning crystals over the fleshy part of the hide. He was going to use the hairless hide instructions but there wasn’t anything he had to do about that right then.
 
Chapter Eight

Cindy and Traven stayed close to home, only taking one ride out with the bikes during the rest of the week. Following the tanning instructions, Traven scraped, sanded, and removed the hair from the hide and oiled. He strung up a length of cable he’d found a long time ago that had once been used to guy power poles. He and Cindy would pull the hide across the cable to stretch and soften the leather. Once he had the leather where he wanted it, he tacked the leather up on a wall and stretched it in the storage house and left it for a week before taking it down and airing it on a line during the day for a couple of clear days. Trimmed up, it made a nice cover for Cindy’s bed, but he saved the scraps to be used later for “whatever.”

Traven had kept the radio on and they listened to every news channel they could receive. Militant activity had died down but he still didn’t feel it was safe enough to return to Evansville just yet.

“Want to go to Hoptown to shop?” Traven asked Cindy.

“What are we going to get?”

“Canned meat, especially fish, where we can find it.” Traven replied.

“When are we going?”

“I think in the morning unless something pops up, then we’ll return here.”

“Okay.”

They left early the next morning after breakfast and made their way to Hopkinsville with no problems. Law enforcement was very visible on the roads. Their first stop was Walmart where they, as an unwritten rule, took half the cans displayed. In smaller stores they would visit, they might take fewer. They got canned roast beef, chicken, Spam, Deviled ham, Vienna sausages, pink salmon, oysters, mussels, smoked trout, smoked salmon, tuna, sardines, crab meat, and kippers. They even stopped at Kroger, Food Lion, Aldi, Piggly Wiggly, an IGA, Save a Lot, and even a couple of Dollar General stores. They even found Yoder’s canned bacon in one of the Dollar Generals. They ran out of the bigger stores to shop at and began going to Mom & Pop grocery stores and shopping there also. Anytime Cindy found dry soup mixes, she’d pick up a few bags, especially Cheddar Broccoli.
Around noon, Traven asked if she wanted to grab a bite to eat. Cindy was all for food she didn’t have to cook herself and agreed. They stopped at Ferrell’s and ordered burgers, fries, and large Cokes, eating in the parking lot.

Before they got on to 68, Traven stopped at the Rural King to see if they had anything he didn’t know he needed. He dropped Cindy across the parking lot at J.C. Penney to shop for underwear while he browsed. Traven picked up a couple of six-packs of Thunderglo Illuminated arrow Nocks, a Columbia River Woods Chogan T-Hawk, a Truglo Glo-Brite Ghost Glow Paint Kit, and two cans of Kleen-Bore GunkOut, He started checking out and Cindy came in with a couple of J.C. Penney shopping bags and they went out to the truck together.

“Let’s go home.” Cindy said. “This place is starting to give me the Willies.”

Traven pulled out onto Fort Campbell boulevard and at the interchange, got on business 68 and headed to 68.
As they reached the bridge over the Cumberland River, Traven asked Cindy, “Still have the Willies?”

“No, not much, the closer we get to the cabin, the better I feel.”

As soon as they returned to the cabin, Cindy pulled tags and washed her new underwear.

Every day, Traven, sometimes accompanied by Cindy, rode the trails on the EVbikes. He watched carefully, looking for dust wallows or roosts the turkeys used. It wouldn’t be long before Thanksgiving and he wanted a turkey for their meal.

Traven also got more practice in with his bow. He could use a broadhead to take a turkey, many did who bow hunted, but he preferred head shots using a Bludgeon tip. It had to be an extremely accurate shot, but he had done it before. His target was a plastic banana stuck on the top of the six-sided archery target. A head shot to the head/neck area would drop a turkey like it had been poll axed. He practiced every morning for an hour or so, destroying three Hobby Lobby plastic bananas.

It took Traven four cold mornings in a hide to finally get his turkey. Although it wasn’t a huge Tom, the hen was big and more than enough to feed them a couple of meals and after boiling the carcass, get three quarts of turkey soup out of. Cindy made sure he saved as many of the feathers to use in her crafts she made to “make busy”. She made some pretty nice things. When she collected grape vines to make a Thanksgiving wreath, Traven commented he didn’t know why she bothered, nobody was going to see it to appreciate the thing. When she answered, “I will,” he kept his mouth shut from then on. He supposed it was pretty lonely for her and she needed the activity to keep her sanity.

Traven also needed something besides splitting firewood to do, so he decided to build a smoker. He had long ago torn down the old smokehouse, saving what hardware he could find. There wasn’t much. He got the hinges and latch off of the door and the tin roofing, and that was it. When it was built, wooden pegs had been used to stabilize the logs. If it hadn’t been for groundhogs undermining a couple of the foundation pillars while nobody occupied the farm, it would probably still be standing. Traven decided to build it back the same way, but with some modifications.

Cindy’s eyes brightened when Traven asked her if she wanted to go to Tractor Supply with him. She got a stocking hat and her winter coat and was almost bouncing at the door while waiting for Traven to get ready to go. On the way to Dover, Cindy’s eyes were moving constantly, taking in everything. She pointed out areas where something had changed as they went along. After crossing the Cumberland River, she brightened even more.

In Tractor Supply, Traven got a shopping cart and headed to where he remembered seeing cast iron stove dampers in a big box. He picked out eight of them, eight pipe elbows, and some sections of straight pipe and eight rain caps. Cindy had wandered over to the bulletin board to see what people were advertising.
Traven picked up more decking screws, two 6-volt lantern batteries, and got new files for sharpening his saws and axes.

“Traven, what is a ‘treadle Singer’?”

“Why? Where did you see that?” Traven asked.

“Somebody is advertising a ‘treadle Singer’ for sale on the bulletin board.”

“Let’s go look.”

Traven read the 3x5 card posted and saw the name “Donald Collins.”

“I know him! He lives off of 49 just outside of Dover on the edge of the conservation area. God! He must be well into his nineties by now! To answer your question, a treadle Singer is a sewing machine powered by a foot peddle instead of electricity. It may or not be a Singer. People started calling all sewing machines run by a treadle as treadle Singers.”

“Can we look at it?”

“Sure, we can stop by on the way home.” Traven replied.

Traven paid for what he had in his cart then went back in and got six bags of Quikcrete.

They traveled back and turned off onto 49 and traveled a couple of miles then turned off on a small road at a sign that read “Boyd Rd.”

When they pulled into the Collins’ driveway, it was kind of strange. The driveway was circular, but it circled around the edges of a pond. They got out in front of the house and Traven knocked on the door. An old man using a cane opened the door and Traven asked him if he remembered him.

“I’m Tom Morgan’s son.” Traven said.

“Well, for goodness sakes! I can see the resemblance. It’s been many a year! Y’all come on in!”

“How have you been doing?” Traven asked.

“Just been waitin’ for the Dullahan and his cóiste bodhar, but the banshee seems to have forgotten where I live.” Mr. Collins said with a toothless grin.

He offered them coffee, but Traven remembered his coffee could be used to remove rust from stove bolts and declined.

“Mr. Collins, we saw an advertisement at Tractor Supply about you selling a treadle Singer.”

“Oh yeah, that was Martha’s. It’s been just another thing to dust off around here and I figured somebody might get some use out of it.”

Traven looked at Cindy who nodded her head with hopeful eyes.

“Well, we’d like to buy it from you.” Traven said.

“Your Missus can make a lot of clothes with it.”

“We’re not….”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Collins,” Cindy said quickly.

“Martha used to sew all the time. She’d make dresses for some of the local women and leather aprons for some of the workers around here. There are boxes of notions you can take with you and a few bolts of cloth.”
Mr. Collins showed them Martha’s sewing room and it was filled with boxes of patterns, parts for the sewing machine, to include dozens of different sizes of needles, boxes of thread, and a partially finished leather apron.
“This is a lot!” Traven said. “How much do you want for this?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I hear tell antique dealers will give a pretty penny for old treadle sewing machines. Let’s say $150.00.”

Traven took eight $20.00 bills out of his wallet and handed them to Mr. Collins.

“This is too much! I’ll owe you some change.

“Forget about it. The extra needles are worth that much.” Traven said.

Traven and Cindy carried everything out to the truck and loaded it, shifting around Traven’s Tractor Supply purchases.

When they had gotten everything, Mr. Collins called Traven to a hall closet and had him take a bundle of hairless hides from a shelf.

“Might as well take these too. I ain’t got any use for ‘em. There’s eight of ‘em there.”

“You tan these yourself?” Traven asked, taking down the heavy bundle.

“Yep. Brain tanned each one. Didn’t kill every deer. Some were given to me by friends and neighbors.”

“I recently tanned a hide using a salt and alum mix.” Traven said.

“Brain tannin’ makes them softer, good for clothing.”

“Thank you Mr. Collins. We’ll be sure to stop by again. You take care of yourself.”

“”Thank you. You be careful up there.”
 
Chapter Nine

Traven and Cindy cleared the old sleeping porch out and moved the contents into the storage house. Turning the area into Cindy’s sewing room. He built barnwood shelves for her notions and a sturdy cabinet to hold the bolts of cloth and hides and added a small potbelly stove to warm the summertime luxury.

He began cutting down 8” oak trees for his smoke house with his one-man crosscut saw and dragging them up to debark while Cindy went through the boxes of clothing patterns, separating out and re-boxing those patterns she knew she would never use.

When Traven had cut all the logs he needed, he built a log cradle and began stripping the bark off the logs with a draw knife. He stopped once in a while to work out the stiffness in his back and checked on Cindy. He had found her with one of his Cambray shirts, taking it apart with a seam ripper.

“Is that my shirt?!”

“Yes, I’m going to use it for a pattern. I’m going to make you a buckskin shirt!”

“Do you even know how to sew?”

“Of course I do! My mother taught me and I was all the time making clothes for my dolls.”

Traven rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen to get a drink of water and a couple of Advil.

When rain threatened, Traven strung up a tarp and continued to debark the logs during the slow rain. It was comforting being dry and listening to the drip, drip, drip, of the rain while still getting something accomplished. It took him almost a week to finish debarking the logs and he decided to take a break and work on his plans for the build.

It wasn’t until he searched the last room of the storage house that he found what he was looking for, but isn’t that how it always goes? He had been looking for an old boring machine used for cutting holes for mortises for timberframe structures. His father had bought it from an Amish carpenter at a sale. It would be easier and faster than using the hand wood auger. He was pinning the logs together, along with the dovetail joints at the ends of the logs would keep the logs from racking as they dried and further stabilize the walls. But before he drilled the holes, he needed to make the 1” x 8” pins. He had oak 2”x2” he could cut to length and round them with a draw knife and large concave spoke shave and that would take some time to do that. He would have to make 125 pins to be on the safe side.

Every day, Traven would fill a tarp he’d laid on the porch with wood shavings. He kept a gauge next to him to gauge each pin, then shave off the high points, fine tuning it. A wooden crate held his finished pins. By volume, when he had the crate filled level with pins, he would have all he would need.

Cindy continued her sewing and had her first fitting on Traven. The shirt was, for the time, just a collarless tunic. She was going to have a button front so it could be unbuttoned to adjust coolness when the weather got warmer. She would have to wait for Traven to cut her buttons from antler sheds before she could do the buttonholes.

Cindy sewed a flat felled seam to cut down on any chafing and decided to also make Traven a set of trousers also as a surprise. She disassembled a pair of Traven’s loose fitting dockers to use for a pattern and would add buttoned billow cargo pockets. Reinforced belt loops would be added that were large enough for a duty belt she found in Traven’s closet.

Cindy had examined how Martha had sewn the leather apron, especially the thread she used. Searching through the box of thread spools, she had identified the thread as Spider Wire braided fishing line. Luckily, she had found the right sized needle and filled several bobbins with the braided line. The bobbin didn’t hold a lot of the line and she had to change them out often.

On one of their infrequent sunny days, Traven and Cindy rode the bikes down the now disused Lakefront road. Few people ever used this section down to Fort Henry Road so the Forest Service had quit maintaining it. Although overgrown, it was fairly easy travel and Traven took it all the way down to where it turned into Boyd Road and stopped in front of a drive that seemed familiar to Cindy.

“This is Mr. Collins’ place!” Cindy said.

“Yes, it is only about twelve kilometers from the cabin to here and much safer to travel than the Trace. As you could probably tell, it is seldom traveled.”

They drank from their water bottles and headed back to the cabin.

Traven finally got around to, at Cindy’s urging, to cut and drill the antler buttons. Using the bone saw, he cut the buttons, used a hand drill to drill the holes, then ground the buttons down to a uniform size on the foot pedal whetstone.

Cindy finished the buckskin shirt. and Traven was quite pleased with it. He usually wore a long-sleeved t-shirt and seldom a coat so the buckskin shirt sufficed except on the most frigid days, and the oiled buckskin shed all but the most torrential downpours. He usually took the shirt off to split firewood because he would overheat rapidly. When she finished the trousers, Traven was both thrilled and surprised. He had her remove a couple of the loops to comfortably carry his hunting knife and pistol holster. Cindy didn’t totally remove them, put just repositioned them.

The crate was almost full of pins and he might be able to start building the smokehouse by the first of the year. He continued to gather materials for the rafters and purlins. When the days were reasonably warm, he built up the foundation and it was ready. The hardest part was gathering the flat rocks to use. He could only carry so much in a wheelbarrow. He could have used the tractor, but even with the low-noise muffler, it was still too loud for him. Last, but not least, he began stocking up 5-gallon buckets of red clay from a nearby bank to use as chinking later on.

Cindy began venturing out on the bike by herself more and decided to take the plunge and go visit Mr. Collins. She baked up some pound cake muffins and took him a dozen. She stayed so long Traven almost went out looking for her, but she returned as he was gearing up.

After dinner one night, Traven was sitting out on the porch, watching as the evening brume gathered and was illuminated by the moonlight. Cindy came out, pulling her heavy sweater closer around her.

“Aren’t you cold out here?”

“It’s not cold! It’s ‘crisp’,” Traven replied. “You know, it’ll be Christmas soon, do you want to make a run into Hopkinsville?”

“I’d like to. I’d like to go to Hobby Lobby to pick up some things to make decorations for a tree.”
“Okay, we can go Saturday morning then.”

“Come on back in. I need some wheatberries ground. I’m making bread tomorrow.”

Traven checked the trailer tires and lights. He almost canceled the trip because of the weather. Although the weather forecasts on the radio said nothing about precipitation, the air felt damp. There had been heavy frost on the truck windshield which the defroster was clearing the last of the scrapings from. But Cindy was so excited, he didn’t have the heart to cancel the trip. Still, he made sure he had his emergency gear and insisted Cindy bring hers and that the vehicle emergency winter gear was complete in the truck. As they got closer to Hopkinsville, they were seeing more signs of people celebrating the holidays. Christmas lights were showing here and there, brightening Cindy’s day even more. Traven was glad to see that even with all the troubles and fears in everyone’s day-to-day lives, there was still hope there.

Cindy pointed to a mall on Fort Campbell boulevard and Traven pulled in. She told him to find something to do, that she had some personal shopping to do. Traven wanted to get Cindy a gift but hadn’t a clue as to what. He drifted from store to store then in in one of those stores that cater to women’s vanities, picked up a gift pack of lotions and feel good stuff. It wasn’t cheap but that didn’t matter. He was more concerned about whether she would like it or not. In another store, he found a winter hat and scarf he thought would look good on her and had everything gift wrapped at a gift wrapping area in the mall center that was making money for charity. He took the packages to the truck and hid them in the toolbox and returned to the mall.

In an outdoor store, Cindy found the lone Leatherman Surge they had and bought it for Traven. It came with a nylon sheath but she was going to make one of leather that not only held the multitool but also the bright LED Rechargeable penlight he had. She then headed for Hobby Lobby in the next building over.

In another store, Traven spotted a display of Milk Chocolate Cordial Cherries, something he knew from the past that Cindy loved. He bought three boxes and quickly stashed them under the truck seat.

Traven found Cindy in Hobby Lobby going through ornaments and tensile. She was gathering things to make a Christmas wreath and to decorate the house with. They found some battery powered sets of lights and when Traven said he had plenty of rechargeable batteries for them, she picked up four sets of them. She also found some thick sheets of cowhide and leather working tools. When she had covered practically every square foot of the store, she turned her shopping cart toward the checkout. As she was reaching into her shoulder purse to get her debit card, Traven told her he had it.

They went to Sam’s and began filling the trailer and to Kroger’s where she picked up cake flower and things to prepare holiday meals. They discussed wines to get and Traven loaded up with those and got a large bottle of Bailey’s and some liquors. When they had bought what they could think of, Traven bought several large packs of toilet paper and finished filling the trailer. Hopefully, they wouldn’t have to buy anymore until late into the next year. Their almost last stop was at a fabric store where Cindy selected buttons, some finer cloth, zippers, and other things Traven had no idea what she would use them for. On the way out of town they stopped at Chick-fil-A and got sandwiches and lemonade to eat on the way home. 
 
Chapter Ten

As they neared the Barkley Bridge over the Cumberland, Cindy let out a sigh of relief. “I enjoyed going there, but I was on pins and needles the whole time, afraid something would happen. I feel safer out here.” Cindy said. “Will things ever get back to normal?”

“Cindy, we will have to make our own normal. Are you happy at the farm?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Well, you have settled into that normal. When you think you’re strong enough, I can take you back to Evansville if you want.”

“No! I’d rather be here with you!”

“Very well.”

When they got back to the cabin, they unloaded everything and Cindy forbade Traven entrance to her craft room until she gave permission. Traven went outside and filled the wood rack on the porch.

The next morning after breakfast, Traven told Cindy to get dressed, that they were going to find a Christmas tree. Getting his Silky Katanaboy Saw out of the storage house, they headed to an area that held a number of Junipers that would make nice trees. Cindy squealed and pointed to what she said was the perfect tree. Traven cut it down and they carried it back to the cabin. Using an old galvanized bucket he’d remembered having been used as a stand, he filled around the tree bottom with rocks and sand and added water. Cindy directed him where to move it to and began stringing the battery lights, which had Traven scrambling to get the batteries for them. That evening, they hung ornaments and popcorn strings and the homemade ornaments Cindy had prepared, all the while sipping on wine. When Traven went out on the porch to get wood for the stove, he called out to Cindy to come there. When she came out, Traven shined his penlight out at the sky to show the snowflakes falling.
Cindy squealed, “We’re going to have a White Christmas!”

They spent the rest of the evening staring at the yellow flames through the glass in the stove, sipping wine, and listening to Christmas music on the radio while snuggled on the couch.

They didn’t get that much snow that night. It was already melting away with the coming of the morning sun. But that didn’t change Cindy’s attitude. The forecasters were already calling for snow Christmas Eve. She started her baking and prepping for their Christmas Day dinner. They were having elk roast with vegetables. She was making apple and pecan pies for dessert. She was making the dough for the apple pie when she asked Traven if they could invite Mr. Collins to dinner on Christmas Day. Traven said he thought that might be a nice gesture. Cindy said she would ride down on her bike and ask him. Traven said he would drive her down. She left the dough in the refrigerator to chill, and they headed out.

Mr. Collins was surprised to see them and humbled when Cindy invited him to dinner. He finally accepted and Cindy said they would pick him up at 11:00 Christmas morning.

When they got back, Traven got what he considered their best elk roast out of the freezer for it to begin thawing. He got his big Dutch oven out and set it in it. When it was ready to cook, he would transfer it to a shallower sided roaster. Cindy went back to her craft room to continue whatever it was she was doing in secret.

Christmas eve, Travis had all the vegetables ready to finish in the morning and an apple and a pecan pie in the pie safe. In deference to Mr. Collins, she had chopped the pecans finally with the hand food processor to make the pie so he could eat it with the few teeth he had.

“Is he going to be able to eat the roast?” Cindy asked, concerned.

“Oh, he’s got teeth. He just doesn’t wear them when he’s chewing tobacco.” Traven replied.

They were up the next morning to get the roast, potatoes and carrots into the oven. It was warm enough with the stove going Traven didn’t even build a fire in the wood stove in the den. Cindy even left the door to the sleeping porch open. Cindy handed Traven his wrapped Leatherman and holster first. He was thrilled with it as she was with the lotions and oils assortment and her hat and scarf. She had to sample one of the boxes of cherry cordials he had wrapped. He kept the other two hidden for another time.

Cindy turned on all the strings of lights and began to make a light breakfast while Traven tuned the radio to a Christmas music channel and began making eggnog. After breakfast, Cindy disappeared and came back dressed in a denim skirt and vest over a white long-sleeved shirt.

“Well! Look a you!” Traven said.

“I thought I’d use some of the material from that bolt of denim.” Cindy said shyly.

“Well, I think you did an excellent job! You look great!” Traven replied.

Traven added a little brandy to two short glasses and poured them full of eggnog.

They bumped glasses in toast and Traven started to say something but instead took a big gulp of his eggnog. Cindy took a drink of hers. Cindy checked the roast and put the cover back on.

“I think I can take the cover off around 11:00 to let it brown.” Cindy said.

Cindy sipped on her eggnog and walked around straightening things in the den. The cabin was filled with the smells of Juniper and roasting elk and vegetables. While she was meandering around, Traven managed to hang a sprig of mistletoe above the porch door.

Traven opened the door and called out to Cindy, “Cindy! Come see!” It was starting to snow again.

Cindy came to the door and squealed.

“Cindy, there is a time-honored tradition I’d like to keep.”

She turned to him and looked up where he was looking. “Mistletoe! Where did you get that?” she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Where did you find the mistletoe?”

“It was in one of the trees I cut down for the smokehouse.”

“Good! I hope there is more out there.”

Cindy checked the roast at 11:00 and decided to stay and monitor it while Traven went to pick up Mr. Collins. It was still snowing so Traven decided to take the back trails instead of leaving tracks on the Trace. There were no washouts so Traven felt he could get through with no problem.

When he got to Mr. Collins’ house, he already had his hat and coat on, carrying his walking stick. He even had his store-bought teeth in.

As they rode back, Mr. Collins was quiet for a bit then said, “I haven’t been up this way in a while. I shore appreciate y’all invitin’ me. I don’t get away much from the house these days.”

A brief spell of sadness swept over Traven, and he wondered if he was catching a glimpse of his own future.
Cindy greeted them at the door with a big smile. “Merry Christmas Mr. Collins!”

Mr. Collins smiled broadly as Cindy took his hat and coat from him.

“Would you like a glass of eggnog, Mr. Collins?” Cindy asked.

“Yes, I would, thank you.”

“Would you like it with a bit more kick?” Traven asked, holding up the bottle of brandy.

“Why shore!” Mr. Collins said with a big grin.

While Traven made the glasses of eggnog, Cindy went over and got a present from under the tree.

“I hope I got the right size. I thought they would be comfortable for you.” Cindy said as she handed the present to Mr. Collins.

Mr. Collins unwrapped the package and pulled out the slipper socks with leather soles.

“I thought they’d be good for wearing around the house to keep your feet warm.” Cindy said.

“Better’n going around in my stockin’ feet! Thank you honey!”

Cindy checked the roast and had Traven take the cast iron roaster out of the oven and sit it on the counter to rest. She dished the potatoes, carrots and pearl onions out into a serving bowl and placed them in the warming oven. Taking the two pies out of the pie safe, she placed them in the warming oven also. When the meat had rested for what Traven believed (or his stomach did, anyway) was long enough, he began slicing thick slices of the roast. Cindy brought the plates over and Traven laid the meat on the plates. Then she took the drainings from the roaster and whipped up the gravy. She called Mr. Collins to take a seat and took the bread out of the warming oven, sliced it and set the bread and the butter bell on the table. Next was the bowl of vegetables.

Once everything was ready, Traven said a blessing and they began loading their plates. Mr. Collins cut a piece of the roast and chewed it slowly, nodding in appreciation.

As Mr. Collins sopped the last of the gravy out of his plate with a piece of bread, Cindy asked him if he was ready for a slice of warm pie, that they had pecan and apple. His eyebrows rose up.

“Now, that’s a hard choice to be makin’. Maybe some apple for now and I can try the pecan later.”

Smiling, Cindy sliced him a piece of the apple and added a big dollop of Dream Whip on top.

Mr. Collins ate the pie quickly, all the while, shaking his head. He scraped the dessert plate so much getting the last of the pie up, Traven thought he was going to scrape the pattern off the plate.

Mr. Collins sat up straight, took a drink of water and said, " Hunger is a good sauce. I haven’t had as fine a meal since Martha passed.” He said, looking out the window chasing a memory.

Cindy’s eyes misted up and said, “Thank you Mr. Collins. It was a pleasure to have you here.”

“Well now, since we have broke bread together, why don’t y’all call me Donald. I’m not high on formalities.”

“Well Donald,” Traven said, “I agree with Cindy. It was a pleasure and an honor to share a meal with you.”
Cindy wiped her nose on her napkin and got up from the table. She began clearing the dishes and Traven went and built a fire in the den stove. Donald went into the den, sat in an armchair and watched the fire. Traven began washing dishes while Cindy made a carry home plate for Donald with enough food for two meals, but on the other hand, the way he ate he might finish it all in one sitting. Half of the remaining pies went on another plate.

She wrapped the rest of the loaf of bread in plastic food wrap and aluminum foils and sat it beside the plates.

When they went into the den, Donald was napping. Traven added another couple of pieces of wood to the stove, set the damper and sat on the couch with Cindy. A few minutes later Donald grunted and jerked awake.

“Are you all right? Cindy asked.

“Oh yeah! Just reviewing old memories in my dreams.” Donald replied, smiling. “I plumb wore myself out eatin’! Could you run me home now Traven?”

“Sure. Let me get a box to put some food in for you.”

Traven went out to the storage building and found a folded box and taped it together.

Cindy set the food in the box and walked Donald out to the truck while Traven carried the box of food. As she stood watching them drive away, a tear trickled down her cheek. Donald reminded her of her late grandfather. 
 
Chapter Eleven

On the way down the trail, Donald looked over at Traven. “Boy, you need to latch on to that girl, she’s a fine woman."

“That’s a thought, but we’re not like that. We are just friends thrown together by circumstances.” Traven said.

“You'll never plow a field by turning it over in your mind," Donald said.

When Traven got back, Cindy had just finished up cleaning the cast iron cookware and wiping the stove down. She folded the dishcloth in half and hung it in the utility room on the drying rack over the washer. Groaning, she leaned up against the door jamb and rubbed her back and sighed.

“Back sore?” Traven asked.

“Yeah, slinging that cast iron around has gotten my back sore.”

Traven took her by the arm and guided her into the den and sat her on the couch.

"May I?" He asked as he put his hands on her shoulders.

"Knock yourself out." Cindy said turning slightly, readjusting herself on the couch.

Traven sat on the arm of the couch and began to caress the soft flesh. She let out a soft moan as she rolled her neck.

"Just relax." Traven said as he looked down. From where he was sitting, he had a nice view down the front of her shirt. Quickly darting his eyes away, he continued to massage her neck and back. Cindy changed positions and lay face down on the couch. As Traven began massaging the knotted muscles along her spine, she reached back under her shirt and undid her bra strap so he could continue down her back. Traven swallowed hard and continued. He needed to get his mind right. He was turning into a regular horn dog! Using rotating motions with his thumbs, he massaged down the sides of her spine.

"Little lower." Cindy mumbled when he reached the small of her back. He moved his hands over the soft flesh of her lower back rubbing at the soft tissue to the rise of her butt cheeks.

"Right there, um, that feels good."

After massaging her lower back for a while, Traven slowly worked his way back up her back, recovering the same areas. Once he reached her neck he said, “That’s enough!” Traven walked over to the stove to stoke it and add more wood, keeping his back to her to keep her from seeing his obvious interest.

“Thank you. That was wonderful!” Cindy said softly. “I wish I had thought and had you use one of the lotions you gave me.” Cindy said, her mouth forming a moue.

Traven swallowed and looked over his shoulder at her. “Maybe some other time.”

"I will hold you to that. Being the cabin mate of Jerimiah Johnson is not easy work!"

When their white Christmas had melted away, Traven set up his sawhorse table, got out the boring machine, strung a tarp over it and began boring the pin holes into the logs and notching them. It was slow work because it entailed changing every log to stagger the pin holes and to chisel out the wood from the notches. He went ahead and laid the sill logs and slowly raised the walls, course by course. It went fairly quickly since there were no windows, just the one door. It was monotonous work only varied by the changing of the stops on the boring machine to stagger the pin holes. Cindy helped lay the logs and align the holes to the pins, which made the work go quicker. When the courses reached a level that it was difficult for Cindy to help, Traven put together a gin pole to help reach the courses on the upper levels of the walls. Traven pinned the rafters, screwed in the purlins, and began filling in the spaces between the rafters at the eaves with split log sections to keep the birds and other critters out of the structure, especially the bats. He would build and hang bat boxes later. They were good for keeping flying insects away from the cabin. When he was ready to put in the cast iron stove dampers he was using for vents, he used the battery powered chainsaw and the Silky Katanaboy saw to cut his holes. Cindy helped Traven prepare the clay to chink the logs with. Traven showed her how to roll pine needles between her gloved palms and fuzz up the needles to add to the clay. Each took two walls, and both finished up around the same time. Traven built a cold smoke firebox outside the smokehouse and a rock lined firepit on the inside. He wanted to get a deer to make jerky and sausages before Spring.

Either Cindy, Traven, or both visited Donald at least weekly, bringing something Cindy had baked or cooked. Donald loved her bread and pinto beans but didn’t turn up his nose at her little pound cakes she baked in the muffin pans. He especially liked Cindy’s pinto beans cooked with a hunk of side meat, Beans and cornbread were his favorites because he could eat them without putting his teeth in.

Donald was always a font of knowledge on the history of Between the Rivers and how a person should live their lives.

“You know, I hear people say that hindsight is 20/20 and I can agree with them.” Donald said. “I wish I hadn’t been so miserly and had spent a little more money on Martha when we had our time together. If you take nothing else to heart that I’ve passed to you, remember this, You can't take it with you when you go, so spend it all!"

Donald chuckled. “Dog gone it; I wish I’d known back then what I know now.”

As the weeks passed, both Cindy and Traven seem to be losing their sense of personal space. They became casual in their dress and Cindy seemed to become more flirtatious. Traven didn’t mind when her favorite piece of clothing seemed to be what he called her flash dance shirt because it hung off one shoulder, and she sometimes inadvertently flashed him. He kept his hormones in check, he needed to stay focused on their situation, but it was becoming more difficult every day.

After the leaves had budded, Traven forked compost into the garden area and plowed it in to plant their garden when he was sure there wouldn’t be another cold snap. It was the longest he had run the tractor since they had settled there. Traven had stockpiled Heirloom seed kits and was going to plant a garden with them. He had built cold frames back during February and finally got glass for them and Cindy had started seeds in trays inside the cabin, filling windowsills with the trays on tables Traven had quickly built. They would soon be ready to transfer to the cold frames to prepare them to be planted.

Like he had seen his grandfather do, Traven used a field hoe to pull the soil up to make 18” wide raised beds and flattened them for planting. It made for a wide garden, but you end up with plenty of space to work on the raised beds.

Traven was working on one of the raised beds when Cindy came speeding up on one of the EVbikes, tears streaming down her face.

“Traven! Donald is dead!”

Traven dropped his hoe and ran over to her. “What happened?!”

“I knocked on the door, but he didn’t answer. I opened the door, walked in, and he was on the kitchen floor.” Cindy said, wiping her nose on her shirtsleeve.

“Put the bike away. We’ll go back in the truck.”

Traven picked the hoe up and walked to the house. After washing his hands, he and Cindy got in the truck and took Lakefront trail back to the Collins place.

Donald’s body was cold so Traven called the Sheriff’s department, and they said they would send someone out. The deputy arrived and checked the body and called an ambulance, which made no sense to Traven. Rigor mortis had already begun to set in, but the deputy said that was the procedure. When the body had been removed to the Stewart County Community Medical Center, Traven found a key and locked the doors. The preacher from Sidewalk Ministries stopped by to check on things and said Donald wasn’t a member of the church but they had talked occasionally. He had heard on the police scanner of the death and came by to offer what comfort he could. Cindy started sniffling again. Traven didn’t know anything about Donald’s religious beliefs, but he asked the preacher if he would consider speaking at Donald’s funeral and that Anglin Funeral Home would probably handle the funeral. He wasn’t sure if Donald had any relatives close by. The preacher said he would be honored and Traven and Cindy parted, heading back to the cabin.

The ride back to the cabin was quiet, Cindy still using wiping her nose and eyes with sheets occasionally torn off a roll of toilet paper. When they went into the cabin, Cindy asked Traven if he wanted anything to eat and he told her no. He stoked the fire and added a stick of wood to the stove. There was still a chill in the air. Traven sat down on the couch and turned on the radio. Cindy came out of the bathroom and sat beside Traven and asked, “Will you hold me?”

Traven put his arm around her and pulled her to him. She laid her head on his chest and sighed heavily.
Traven awoke to a dreary, foggy day and built a fire in the stove to take the damp chill out of the cabin. Cindy got up and made coffee, looking out the window she asked, “bad weather?”

Traven grunted and said, ”There's no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing.”

Cindy walked over to him and hugged him tightly. “Okay, Mr. Grump. Do you feel like some biscuits this morning?”

Traven grinned and stroked her hair. “That would be nice,” he said.

The celebration of life was held in the chapel of Anglin Funeral Home. Unknown to Traven, Donald’s body had been cremated but it became clearer to him when he was approached by a Linda Austin, Estate Planning & Elder Law Attorney with Williams Law LLC in Dover. The lady approached him after the service and introduced herself, explaining to him that Mr. Jones had contacted her after receiving the body and that her firm had handled Mr. Collins’ legal services, and they had a copy of his will. Donald had stipulated in his will that he wanted his ashes scattered over between the rivers.

Traven admired the timbre of her voice, finding it captivating. Cindy huffed up like toad frog.

“Okay, thank you for telling me Ms. Austin. I wasn’t aware of that.” Traven said.

“Mr. Morgan, there are some other things I need to talk with you about. Could you meet with me at my office at a time of your convenience tomorrow?” She asked, handing him a business card.

“Yes, I suppose. Would 1:00 PM be convenient for you?”

“That would be fine. I look forward to meeting with you tomorrow.” Then she turned and left.

“I wonder what she wanted?” Cindy murmured.

“Probably the key to Donald’s door I have in my pocket.” Traven said.

“I don’t like her….she seems sort of………smarmy.”

“I believe the word you are searching for is ‘obsequious.”

“Beware of those demonstrating obsequious behavior. They will be the first to slide a knife in between your ribs. But then, that may be how lawyers act around here.”
 
Chapter Twelve

“Traven, I’ve been thinking.” Cindy said. “I believe there is something more that caused you to formulate your plans for this place.”

“And you would be right. During my search for the truth in the universe, I read the Les prophecies de Michel de Nostredame and things began to click. There are many who believe we are entering the Age of Aquarius. There could be something there and I believe we could be headed for turbulent times if you combine it with the way this country is headed. I wanted a place to keep my head down until the dust settled. It might be futile though. With Trump running for President again, if he wins, there are going to be significant challenges. Also, I’m afraid if he wins the election someone is going to assassinate him. Then the stuff will really hit the fan."

Traven split wood the next morning until lunch, came in and cleaned up to go see the lawyer lady.

“I’m going with you.” Cindy said.

“I don’t think you need to, you…”

“Did you see the look in that skank’s eyes? She’s looking for more than something to do with estate planning!”

Traven grinned. “Well, maybe it’s a good time to get to know our neighbors.”

“You don’t need to know her like she seems to want.” Cindy pouted.

Linda Austin’s office wasn’t luxurious, but it was certainly beyond what you thought you would find in a village like Dover. Law books filled shelves to the left of her desk, and the paint scheme brought to mind the green and burgandy colors you might find in a Confederate whore house. She graciously invited them in and offered them something to drink, which both Cindy and Traven declined.

“Well, Donald Collins is, or was, a surprising man. He recently came in and had our family law section make a complete change in his will. It hadn’t been changed in years. To let you know up front, Mr. Collins bequeathed his entire estate, minus taxes and fees, to you, Mr. Morgan."

Traven flinched and frowned. “That’s surprising!”

“Well, he seemed to think a lot of you.” Ms. Austin said.

“How much are we talking about here?” Cindy asked.

“Total of the recorded assets, to include the land, buildings, and bank accounts, is $876,585.00.” And everything was assessed when he asked us to change the will.

“Very well,” Traven said sadly.

The law office had already handled the land and property transfer. Traven would have to go to the bank and have the funds there transferred to his account.

After getting his signature, Traven and Cindy slowly walked back to the truck.

“Are you all right?” Cindy asked.

“Yeah, sure. It’s just I’d much rather have that man’s wisdom back than his money.”

“But it was nice of him to do that, wasn’t it?”

“Oh yes. It gives us a buffer and maybe get you back to Evansville sooner.” Traven said.

“Oh, you inherit some money and now you want to kick me to the curb?”

Traven did a stutter-step and stopped. “But I thought you really wanted to get back to Evansville!”

“I wouldn’t go back without you, but there's one thing I know I already want to do." Cindy said shyly.

"And that would be?”

"I want to move into your room and share your bed from here on."

“Well, I hadn’t planned on this." Traven said.

"Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans,” Cindy said grinning as she looped her arm in his and they walked the rest of the way to the truck.

Traven did the bank thing and did a double take when he was asked about the safety deposit box. They brought it to him, the law office had already delivered the second key to them and a lady led him to a small private room to examine the contents. The box had land deeds for property in Stewart and Henry Counties and a lot of old bonds. Traven called in the Manager and asked if they had an investment counselor. She said they did, but he came down once a week from Hopkinsville and wouldn’t be there until Thursday. Traven asked if she could schedule an appointment with him sometime sooner at his office in Hopkinsville. She said she would and asked for a contact number. Traven left the bank feeling a little better. With the financial situation in the country practically on the trash heap, he wanted to get rid of the bonds as soon as possible.

Traven was smiling when he got back into the truck.

“What are you smiling about?” Cindy asked.

“Just something Donald said to me one time. ‘Life is short. Smile while you still have teeth.’”

Cindy got out of the bed and pulled on her robe. “Get up lazy, we’re going to Hoptown today!”

“I'm not lazy, I'm just on my energy-saving mode.” Traven moaned.

Cindy went into the bathroom and rubbed her fingers through her hair.

“Why do they call it 'beauty sleep' when you wake up looking like a troll?"

“You could never look like a troll even if I pulled you out of a dark, dank cave myself.” Traven said, swinging his feet to the floor.

“Well, you did rescue me out of Evansville and bundled me away to your forest estate.”

“Yeah, with you kicking and screaming all the way.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly concerned for my virtue at the time. A virtuous woman is someone who lives with integrity and holds herself to high moral standards."

“And now?”

“I cannot hold anything but deep affection for the man who crushed my moral standards.”

“A wise woman indeed.” Traven said, just before she pounced on him and held him down on the mattress. “And you’re glad for it….SAY IT!”

“I am glad for it!” Traven said, laughing.

On their way to Hopkinsville to see the investment counselor, Cindy was thumbing through the packets Traven had pulled out of the safety deposit box and came upon the deeds to Donald’s land.

“Did you know there were 187 acres of Donald’s land? There’s also 122 acres in Henry County. ”

“Oh, that’s interesting, I guess.”

Cindy slapped Traven on the arm. “You could be just a bit less dispassionate.”

“Sorry, it’s just I have no real use for it and haven’t decided what to do with the property.”

Traven had the investment counselor set up an investment account and turned the bonds and stock certificates over to him. They were only worth a few thousand but the counselor was happy for the business.
Traven stopped by an IGA and they bought more bacon, breakfast sausage, New York strip and rib eye steaks, and packs of polish sausage to put in the freezer.

They had lunch at the Horseshoe Steakhouse.

“Well, couldn’t we go down and look through the contents of the house? There may be things we can use or start thinking about an estate sale.” Cindy asked.

“Yes, I guess we could. Let’s make plans to go down in the morning. My brain is a little overwhelmed right now.”

“Okay.”

After stocking the freezer, Traven moved to the kitchen and fried up some Polish sausage, potatoes, and onions….comfort food. Cindy made skillet cornbread, and they had a good meal before settling in to watch a movie together. Traven opened a bottle of wine, and they ended up falling asleep on the couch, only awakening when the room chilled enough to wake them up. Traven picked Cindy up, carried her to her bed, took off her boots, and tucked her in.

Ten minutes later, Cindy, still in her stocking feet but in a nightdress, crawled into bed with Traven; shivering, she spooned as close to him as she could, trying to get warm.

The sun shining through a parting of the curtain and the hot breath on his neck woke Traven. When he tried to turn over, he felt Cindy’s arm curled under his left armpit. He guessed she was serious about sleeping in his bed every night. He lay there for a few seconds before removing her arm and sitting up. The cabin was cold. He quickly got up, tugged on pants, sweatshirt, and moccasins; then went into the den and built a fire. Going to the kitchen, he added wood to the cookstove firebox, put water in the percolator and filled the basket with coffee.

Cindy ran her hand over the warmth were Traven had lain. Even though he had gotten up only a short time earlier, the mattress was already cooling. She got up, moved quickly to her bedroom and put on her thick robe.

Smelling the coffee perking, Cindy headed for the kitchen.

“Don’t you ever do that again, Traven Morgan!”

“Whaaat?”

“Put me to bed in the other room. I told you where I wanted to sleep.”

“Okay…Okay! I wasn’t sure if you were really serious about that.”

“I’m serious, damn serious!”

“Duly noted.”

Traven began frying a couple of slices of country ham and Cindy began making biscuits. Between the two of them, they quickly made a hearty breakfast and sat down.

Traven reached over and took her hand. “Cindy, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize your feelings went that deep.”
“Traven, it isn’t just about sex. We’ve been thrown into an uncertain situation and I’m slow to adapt to it. When I snuggle with you, I feel secure knowing you are by my side.”

“So, I’m an animated body pillow?”

“More than that, but you’re warm too.” Cindy said, grinning.

They finished their breakfast of ham, eggs, red-eye gravy, yellow grits, and biscuits. Traven sopped the remnants of the gravy with the last of a biscuit and began doing dishes. Cindy dried.

“Let’s get our showers and go to Donald’s house.” Traven said. “I want to get this over with.”

The sun was turning the frost into steam as they drove to Donald’s.

Traven almost wished they had taken the bikes so they could have enjoyed the quietness, the stillness, the rawness of the morning. It seemed like a special time. When they arrived at Donald’s, Traven unlocked the door and built a fire in the woodstove. Soon, the house began to warm up and they removed their coats and started with the kitchen. Cindy began sorting out things she wanted to take back to the cabin, fully aware of their space limitations, but wasn’t going to leave the fine collection of vintage Old Hickory knives. She added the cast iron cookware, a recipe box and old cookbooks that must have belonged to his wife. They moved into the den and Traven took down the antique Flintlock Kentucky Long Rifle off the wall along with its powder horn and possibles bag. The bag contained a partial ingot of lead, a round ball mold, an adjustable brass powder measure, a fixed-charge measure made from antler, an old brass compass, an old shoe polish can filled with lubricated cloth patches, a little can of oil <(presumably bear oil according to the faded lettering on the can)>, a short ball starter, a cleaning jag, a fouling scraper, bullet puller, flat-head screwdriver, vent pick, spare flints, and knapping tool. Traven examined the bag closer, and the bag had pockets for each item, sewn carefully in and an outer shell of leather stiffened the bag and kept the tools from rubbing the wearer. With the wide strap, the bag would ride comfortably on the wearer’s shoulder. Someone would love to have this in their collection, but Traven was taking it home with him. Cindy took down a couple of old pictures she liked, and they moved on to the bedrooms. Cindy found a closet filled with beautiful old quilts and blankets and grabbed all of them. When she reached the back of the closet, she called to Traven, “Take a look at these."

Along the back wall of the closet was a homemade rifle rack with several guns. Traven pulled the first one out and examined it. It was a Browning A-5 16 gauge (Sweet Sixteen) semi-auto shotgun, next to it was a beautiful Remington 1100 semi-auto shotgun, then a Winchester Model 12 (Slam fire). Followed by an Ingram 12-gauge double barrel hammer shotgun, a Beretta 686 over/under shotgun, and finally an Ithaca Model 37. Donald sure liked his shotguns. Traven took some of the blankets and individually wrapped the shotguns and laid them aside. Traven looked around but only found one box of 12-gauge shotshells.

Donald must not have used the guns very often.
 
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Chapter Thirteen

Cindy found a several bags of hand-crochet doilies she put with the quilts. There was nothing of interest in the second bedroom except old clothes. Perhaps the church could use them.

They checked the two outbuildings and Traven found some old, but well cared for, tools he would take back with them and a couple of large cast iron rendering pots some woman would probably turn into a flower planter. He’d take those also. He couldn’t stand the thought of something that had provided food for what might have been generations being filled with dirt. There was no tractor but there were several implements to be used with a tractor and Traven saw use for couple of them. He’d retrieve those later, if they fit his tractor.

Traven made sure the fire was out in the den stove, locked up the house and they headed back to the cabin.
It was silent in the truck as they drove the trail back. Cindy just stared out the side window.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“Donald once said to me, “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” I seemed to remember that quote and looked it up. It was written by a 19th century Danish philosopher. I think Donald was a learned man.”

“Donald was a philosopher in his own right.”

Traven took the tractor back down the next day and found the land plane and the rear blade both fit the tractor. He made two trips getting them back to the cabin, mounting each one to transport them. Traven used a grinder and steel wire brush to remove rust and primed and painted the spots.

They received their first dusting of snow a week before Christmas and along with it, Donald’s house burned to the ground. The Sheriff’s Deputy thought it was probably vagrants looking for a place out of the cold. They had seen plenty of them headed up and down the highway. Traven and Cindy went back down to look in the other two buildings again. No use letting something burn up if they could use it. Traven recovered several hand tools and some garden tools. Everything else he already had or wouldn’t be a big loss.

Sadly, they walked around then got into the truck and headed back home.

Traven cut a six-foot-tall juniper and they decorated the tree on Christmas eve. Afterwards, they drank hot chocolate and watched a DVD movie.

Traven checked online for local real estate listings and was surprised at what people were asking for land in the area. There was a 5-acre lot at the corner of the Trace and highway 76 that was listed for $5,000 an acre. Further up the Trace, toward Donald’s, land was going for $38,000 an acre. The people sure thought the land between the rivers was precious. Traven decided to up the ante and listed the 187 acres for $40,000 an acre and see who would bite. Now it was wait and see.

Father Winter visited them the first week of January, leaving them a lot of broken limbs and fallen trees heavy with a half an inch of ice on the tree limbs. Mid-January brought them four days of snow. Total accumulation was only ten inches, but it was a wet snow that brought down more tree branches that had probably been cracked during the ice storm. Once he could get out, Traven went down to the hardware store and bought a battery powered pole saw. The rest of the month was spent harvesting limbs and cutting them to firewood length. He ended up with two cords of wood that didn’t have to be split.

Traven hauled in two trailer loads of horse manure from a horse farm over in Big Rock. Cindy drove the tractor through the garden area while Traven spread the manure with a seed fork. Once he had spread the manure, he used the disk to turn the soil and let the manure mature a little before they started planting the garden in April.
Someone finally made an offer on the Collin’s Stewart County property. The offer came in at $13,000 which Traven countered with $35,000 an acre. The man finally came up from Nashville and was shown the property by Linda Austin and they finally settled for $32,000 an acre. Even after taxes, Traven would still come out to the good.

Freezing rain came again and Traven and Cindy had no reason to be out and about so they sheltered in feasted on beans, cornbread and tea. Cindy fixed a platter of Kielbasa, cheese and crackers and they roasted pieces of the sausage on sticks in the fire of the opened stove and watched John Wayne movies. Sometime during the night, six inches of snow fell and blanketed the area. Again, they had nowhere they had to go so they hunkered in the house and let nature take it course. By Thursday, the sun broke out and the land between the rivers was a crystal landscape. The sun was melting the ice on the tree limbs and it could be dangerous to get out with the spears of ice falling out of the sky. Friday morning, they did get out and walked down near the lake and the snow was pock-marked where the ice had fallen into the snow. Traven got a couple of rabbits out foraging with his Browning Buck Mark and they took them back to the house. Traven dressed them and Cindy prepared to fry them up. After lunch, Traven brought more firewood in and Cindy spent the afternoon sewing while Traven cruised the internet looking for more information.

Saturday morning at breakfast, Traven asked Cindy what she had planned for the day.

“Nothing specifically. Do you have something in mind?”

“I thought we could go take a look at the property down in Henry County. I also need to pick up some bar oil for the saws and we could go get some ‘we don’t need that’ groceries. The property is outside of Paris.”

“Let me change shoes. I suppose we’ll be hiking around.”

“Yeah, possibly. And there is a large Walmart down there. Make a list of anything we need or you want.”
Cindy made sausage biscuits and got thermos cups and a thermos bottle of coffee and they headed down to US-79 and turned right. A little over nine miles later they reached Kentucky Lake. Sixteen miles later, they reached Paris, Tennessee. Traven figured they would stock the bar oil at Walmart, so they headed there first. Traven got a shopping cart and headed to the hardware and automotive area and found the quarts of bar oil. He put four quarts into the cart and picked up some WD-40. Cindy grabbed the front of the cart and guided him over to the arts and crafts section and began tossing packages he assumed were related to sewing into the cart. She finally quelched her interest in that area and asked where the fishing equipment was. Traven guided her over and she searched the rolls of fishing line until she found the same SpiderWire line that had been in the sewing notions they had got from Donald. She picked out two 500 yard spools and placed them in the cart. Traven then headed to the nearby office supply section and got two reams of printer paper and spare ink cartridges for his printer.

“We need more cinnamon.” Cindy said.

They walked the aisles to the grocery section and found the spices. Cindy got her cinnamon and a couple of other spices and s couple of large bags of non-iodized salt. Traven let her continue browsing and went to get another cart. They loaded up on bulk breakfast sausage, a family pack of pork chops, a bag of grapes, concentrated frozen orange juice, twenty pounds of potatoes, and bottles of maple syrup. He was glad he had added coolers to the back of the Travelall before they left. After carefully packing the coolers with cans of the frozen juice spread between the coolers, they went to Amerigas.

“What are we doing here?” Cindy asked.

“Spring and summer are coming. It will soon be too hot to use the wood cookstove. That’s when we switch to the propane cookstove. The water is also heated with propane, mostly. I haven’t had to fill the tank in a couple of years and it’s time.”

Trace got out the deed and maps for the property and found it quite easily. The property bordered Girlscout Camp Road and had a little over a mile of shoreline on Kentucky lake. The land itself had plenty of building areas and totally forested over. <“This might be more valuable that the other land,” Traven thought. They finally headed back home but stopped at a real estate office along US-79 to inquire about local land prices.
When they entered, there was an older man sitting at a desk. By the look of the awards on the wall they were a successful agency. Traven and Cindy walked over to him and Traven asked about land prices on the Lake.

“Water access?”

“Yes.”

“Developed or undeveloped?”

“Undeveloped.”

“Well, there are several price ranges, dependent upon ease of access and acreage.”

“Relatively easy to access and 122 acres.” Trace said.

The man’s eyebrows lifted. “You’re looking to buy or sell?”

“I’ll probably sell.”

“Where is this land located?”

“Part of the acreage runs along Girlscout Camp Road and runs north to the point.

“Well,” the man said, clearing his throat. That much acreage could bring a hundred thousand an acre depending on development. Would you like us to handle it?”

“I suppose so.” Traven said, unfolding the deed. Mr. Cramer copied the deed and handed it back to Traven. He took down Traven’s contact information and said he would be in touch.

They returned to the Travelall and headed north on US-79, not stopping until they returned home.

As they were crossing the lake, Cindy asked, “Do you realize he just quoted you over twelve million dollars for that property?”

“The land hasn’t even hit the market and there are few people with that kind of cash to buy it anyway. I don’t want the bother of parceling the land and selling it off in lots. I’d rather minimalize my work and let someone else do it.”

“Still, you probably won’ have to ever work again.”

“Maybe.”

They unloaded the coolers at home and stored the staples in the pantry. After having a late lunch of ham and cheese sandwiches, Traven helped Cindy make breaded pork chops with mashed potatoes and green beans for supper.

Traven made a drink and went and sat on the deck. Later, Cindy went t look for him and found him in his chair on the deck, whittling on a stick and talking to himself.

“Interesting audience you have while you talk to yourself.” Cindy said.

“The only reason I talk to myself is because with Donald gone, I'm the only one whose answers I accept, except for yours.”

“Well, thank you for boosting my ego. Do you want to talk?”

Trevan sighed. “Cindy. That much money will bring nothing but attention with trouble on its coattails.
“Well, it sems to me it is about control. You can control how you spend or donated the money. You probably need to invest some to keep a money train coming in and spend what you need now to get things set up the way you want.”

“Yeah, I know all that. I just hate to get started.”
 
Chapter Fourteen

“Well, the chickens haven’t hatched yet so you’ve got time to work out a plan. What are your dreams for the homestead and what do you need to do to make your dreams come true?”

“If I were going to be here long term, I’d want a greenhouse. I would grow most of my food. The cold frames are good for acclimatizing plants for planting in the Spring, but a greenhouse can be used to extend the growing season. I could even grow things during the winter with proper heating and lighting.”

“Okay, that’s a bullet point. What else?”

“I’d probably get a real solar contractor in here to evaluate my system so I had a decent off-grid system. I’ve pieced together stuff from Harbor Freight so far. It could be better.”

“Point Two! Keep going…”

“I need to do some research and take notes.”

“I’ll get a notepad and take notes. You get on the computer and research and we can talk about it.” Cindy said.
They moved into Traven’s “mancave” and she sat on the other side of the desk as he researched homesteading using sustainable agriculture methods and farming practices.

Traven would find something new, read it to Cindy, and they would discuss it.

They talked about things he would need to carry out sustainable methods and practices and Traven admitted there were some things he could use to make implementation easier.

“When will the apple trees mature enough to harvest enough apples to store.”

“Oh, it will be a couple of years before we get anything like a good harvest.” Traven replied.

“But you can buy apples and store them before you harvest your own, can’t you?”

“Well sure!”

“Well, how would you store them…freeze them?”

“I’ve seen them canned in jars at the Amish store.”

“So, do you have canning supplies? Do you have any books on canning?” Cindy asked.”

“No, write that down. I need to do research on freeze-drying food also. I’ve seen bags of apple slices in the market.”

Cindy wrote some notes on her pad and asked about other storage methods.

“Well, there is freezing, freeze-drying, canning in jars and cans, but for cans we’ll need special equipment, and dehydrating.

“Right now, I think you should focus on equipment for harvesting and storing your food. I know in the garden or a greenhouse it would be easy to pick the vegetables, but how do you pick the apples when the trees are so tall? Use a stepladder?”

“There are picking sticks that have claws on the end and a bag to pick the apples high up. I can order those.” Traven replied.

Is there anything else as far as equipment?

“Let’s see…..we have apple picking bags, freeze dryer, canner, and a dehydrator on the list. Let me read through the rest of this information to see what else I can come up with.”

They soon shut everything down and went to bed. This time Traven didn’t take her to her bedroom.

Around 10;30 PM Traven got up and opened a bottle of wine while Cindy made some snacks. They sat for a while sipping wine and snacking while discussing some of the things Traven had run across when Cindy rubbed her arms and asked, “Do you feel that?”

Traven felt his skin tingling and noticed the goosebumps on Cindy’s arms. He could hear a slight humming and stood up. Going to the door to the deck he stepped outside and could see a glow through the trees down toward the lake.
Strangers in The Night
“What is it?” Cindy asked, tugging on his arm.

“I don’t know. Looking through his peripheral vision at the glow, he saw a shadow in the distance between them and the light.

“Come on. It’s just the moonlight shining off the mist.” Traven said, turning and holding the door open for Cindy.

“That doesn’t look like moonlight to me!” Cindy said.

“Just one of those things that sometimes happens in the Land Between The Lakes.”

“I needed to get up and stretch anyway. We’ve been at this for hours.”

“Yeah, I’m about ready to hit the sack. All this thinking tires me out.” Traven replied.

Traven banked the fires and followed Cindy to the bedroom.

About an hour before dawn, Traven was awakened by the deep hum again. He felt Cindy clinch her arm around his waist and moan. They were both soon asleep again.

Traven awoke and pushed a strand of Cindy’s hair out of his mouth. Something felt different. He moved his right foot around and didn’t feel Cindy’s prosthetic, so he knew she hadn’t been up yet. She usually put it on the first thing to go to the bathroom, then slip back into bed. He felt the rhythm of her breathing change and went up on his left elbow and looked at her.

“Are you awake?”

“Mmm,” She said, and rolled onto her back.

“What time is it?”

Traven looked at his watch. “Seven o’clock.”

“My God! I slept like the dead!” Cindy said.

“Me too,” Traven said. “I need some coffee!”

Cindy got up, slipped her leg on and headed to the bathroom. Traven slipped his feet in his moccasins, pulled on his sweatshirt top and headed for the kitchen. Uncovering the coals in the cookstove, he added kindling and soon had flames going then added larger wood. Filling the percolator with water, he added coffee grounds and set it on the hot ring of the stove. Cindy came in, running a brush through her hair and sat at the table.
“What do you want for breakfast?” Traven asked.

“Pancakes and sausage,” Cindy replied.

“No eggs?”

“Not this morning. Traven, what was that last night? I was having dreams.”

“I’m not sure, I’ve felt that vibration a couple of times before. There are strange things in these woods sometimes. I’ve just learned to live with it.”

“It’s going to take a lot of learning for me.” Cindy said, laying the hairbrush down.

The coffee perked and Traven poured her a mug. She added a teaspoon of Cremora to her coffee and gave it a stir. Traven drank his black.

Traven got the sausage patties out and began frying them. Cindy got up and began making the pancake batter.
After breakfast, Traven put on his hunting overalls and boots and went down to the garden area. He was planning on planting some cabbage and Brussels sprout plants and needed to go down to Brigham’s to pick them up. He would also begin moving plants into the cold frames to begin acclimatizing the plants today. Traven went back to the house and told Cindy where he was going and got his keys. Cindy watched him leave then took the shotgun out of the pantry and set it in her sewing room.

Traven was back within 45 minutes with a bundle of 25 cabbage plants, 15 Brussels sprout plants, four bags of cow manure compost and a bag of 10-10-10 fertilizer. He took a spade, a hand trowel, and a watering can out of the garden shed and began preparing the holes for the plants. Cindy came down as he was planting the last of the Brussels sprouts.

“I’m sorry! I was going to help you, but time ran away as I was sewing.”

“No problem. Planting is cathartic. It helps me think.”

“And….did you come up with any solutions?”

“Well, I guess if I sell the land, I’ll need to talk to the investment counselor like you suggested.”

“But, you have to wait until the land is sold.”

“There is that. It is exciting waiting for the process. It’s like buying a lottery ticket and waiting for a winning number. Tomorrow morning, I’m going to go out and try to get a deer. The hunting season is almost over and I want to try making some deer summer sausage.”

“Do you have everything to make it?”

“I need to get pork fat, garlic and hopefully Walmart will have some cranberries, frozen or fresh.”

“I guess we need to make another trip to Paris?”

“Yeah, we need to go before I go hunting. I want to process the meat quickly.”

After a quick breakfast the next morning, they headed to Paris. They tried a couple of Mom-and-Pop stores and they didn’t carry them but were told by the lady in the second store that casings were carried at Walmart. They went to Walmart and Traven found exactly what he needed. Not only did they have natural casings, but a large variety of fibrous and collagen casings. One of the attendants told them a lot of the local hunters used them to process their deer. Traven guesstimated the amount of meat he would have and bought enough to make summer and Kielbasa sausages. He even bought a pricker to remove air and fat bubbles from the sausages. Plenty of pork fat was available and Traven picked up more than he really needed. It could be used for cooking.
Armed with what they needed, Cindy guided them over to the produce section and picked out bananas and vanilla wafers to make banana pudding. Traven picked out several large bulbs of garlic and went to the frozen fruits area and got four bags of cranberries. They started for the checkout and Cindy veered away to the kitchen section and picked up a double boiler to make the custard for the pudding in. Finally, she made a beeline to the checkout and began loading the belt with their purchases.

Traven got the bags loaded into the Travelall and got into the driver’s seat with a big grin on his face.

“What are you grinning about?” Cindy asked.

“I think you’re planning on making banana pudding.”

“Maybe so, if my hunter brings back a deer.”

Traven spent the rest of the day sharpening his knives sharp enough to shave the hair off of his wrists. Instead of setting up the gambrel from his field dressing kit, Traven pulled out a singletree out of the storage house and cleaned up the hooks. A temporary table of sawhorses and boards were set up near the gambrel for meat cutting. Plenty of shallow plastic bins to carry the meat in were readied and he was ready to go hunting the next morning.

Traven was up before dawn the next morning and pulled his deer cart near where his hide was. After getting settled in, It was two and a half hours before he saw his first doe. Soon, another came through, followed by a large buck. Traven took a shallow breath, took the safety off the rifle and downed the buck. He didn’t even leave the small clearing. Thankful he didn’t have to track the deer, Traven retrieved the cart and got the deer loaded onto it. Twenty minutes later, the deer was slung up under the oak by the storage house and bleeding out.
Cindy had a meal of country ham, red-eye gravy, eggs and grits ready when he got to the house. Traven quickly ate while Cindy was cubing the pork fat.

“That was a quick hunt,” Cindy said.

“Better than some I’ve had. Can you get the scales out of the pantry? I’ll need to weigh the venison and the pork fat to get the proper ratios. Once I get the first batch weighed, I’ll set up the grinder.”

“Is it an electric grinder?” Cindy asked.

“Sorry, no. It’s manual and I’ll be tired tonight.”

“I can spell you once in a while.”

“That would be helpful.”

Traven got up, rinsed his dishes and flatware, then put them in the dishwasher.
 
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