Chapter 30
After they finished eating and Martha and June were cleaning up the kitchen, Marty asked Al if he could talk to him outside for a minute. The two men went out on the front porch and had a seat in the waiting rocking chairs.
“Mr. Smith, is there something wrong, is there something troubling you,” asked Marty?
“Marty, “ Al began, “That is the first time I have sat down at a table with other people in over a year. I couldn't help but be reminded of how my life was with my wife before this plague hit the country. We always made sure that we were all together for supper. I have lost so much, my wife, my kids are dead, and I have spent many restless hours wondering why I was spared, when so many lost their lives. I am not proud of it Marty, but there have been times that I thought about joining them. In fact, if you had not walked through my gate when you did, I would probably be with them now.”
“Mr. Smith, I cannot imagine your pain, Martha and I never had any children and my only brother survived and June, is Martha's only living relative, so we feel really blessed. I want you to consider us as your family, and those two kids in there, they need a family too. We found them at the truck stop living off scraps. Their parents are dead and the little boy was charged with taking care of his sister. If you can, try to think of them as family too.”
“Y’all are good people, Marty.” Al said.
“Let's go see if Martha has the coffee and cake ready,” said Marty.
The next morning was a flurry of activity as they got ready to go shopping. Ron and Al had already left with truck and a trailer.
“I reckon it wouldn't be right of me to keep calling you Boy,” said Marty, “Hows about you tell us your name,” Marty asked the young boy.
“My name is Robert,” offered the little boy, “but everyone called me Bobby, and Sissy's real name is Janet, be we always called her Sissy, cause she was my sister. She will answer to either one, what do we call you.”
Marty thought a minute and said, “well, you can call me whatever you're comfortable with. My name is Marty Jenkins, but you can call me Marty, or Mr. Jenkins, or Uncle Marty, or whatever you like. Just don't be disrespectful.”
“Same here and with all the adults,” echoed Martha, “ just pick out a name you like and we will be OK with it.”
“Let me think on it a bit,” said Bobby, trying to sound a little more grown up.
They pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot and were not surprised to see a couple of their neighbors outside the mega store. “Morning,” said Marty, “how y'all doing?”
“We are doing fair to middlin', I reckon,” answered the neighbor. “We just came by to see if we could find a few things. Who are the little ones?”
“Kin folk of Martha and June,” said Marty, not wanting to answer a bunch of questions. “We thought we could pick them up some clothes and maybe some toys and such.”
After the pleasantries had been exchanged, the extended family entered the darkened store. “Good thing you thought to bring flashlights,” said Martha.
“Its kind of amazing how much we take a simple thing like lights for granted. People just flip the switch and expect it to be there,” Marty lamented.
Martha pulled out the list with everyone's sizes and wants and grabbing a cart, she headed down the aisles, just like she always had. June had taken a cart a was quickly filling a cart with work clothes for Ron. When they met up at the shoe aisle, Martha had the children sit on a bench and put on clean socks and they started trying on boots and shoes.
“Might as well get a few pair in larger sizes as well,” said Marty, “children's feet grow faster than weeds in a corn field. Same thing for clothes, I reckon. Might as well get all we can. What we can't use we will barter to those that can.”
“Marty went to the sporting goods section and got all the ammo he could get that fit guns they had and he picked up a scope and rings and a new Ruger 10/22 for Bobby, and one that Sissy could have when she got a little older” “ I'm going to plunder around in the back a little, call me n the radio if you need me and keep your eyes open.”
Marty couldn't believe how much ammunition and how many guns were in storage at the back of the store. “As hard as this ammo has been to find, and the store had pallets of it in the back,” Marty said to himself. “I wonder if they were told not to sell it or they were holding it until the prices went up.”