Story Trash to Treasure

[Kathy in FL]

Here's another one that I'm moving over. I just need to get these backed up here on TB2K, kinda not starting to feel the love for the other places that may or may not get a stray hare and start "moderating" the collection.

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Prelude

“How much longer do you think the power Is going to be off?”

That was my cousin Trish asking Uncle Derek the latest stupid question. The questions started a few days ago with, “Why are the gas stations saying they are out of gas? I see people driving around. Why can’t we just make them sell us some or the other people give us some? That’s what’s fair.” Then they progressed to, “Why are you spending money on all of this gross food? Why not just get the good stuff and put it in the freezer? I’m not eating that junk, we’ll just go to ‘name the fast food place.’” And now she wants to know why, if the power is going to be off, we can’t just go to a hotel. For someone my age – 17 – she Is acting like she is half that age and dimwitted.

I wanted to tell her to clean her room and find out where she lost her brain cells at. But I kept my mouth shut. When you are at the bottom of the poop pile you have to learn to keep your mouth shut. But honestly? You’re going to be that dumb in the middle of a hurricane? In the middle of a Category 5 hurricane? Or at least in the middle of one heading this way? Derek tried explaining things to her a couple of times but when someone wants to be willfully stupid there’s not much you can do about it. She used to do it to be the clueless blonde everyone thought was cute. Now I think she has done it so much for so long she’s just plain stuck on stupid permanently. I tell you it gets old real fast.

I guess it is only right that I explain that I wouldn’t be here to hear Trisha’s stupid questions except for Derek. His wife, my aunt Darla, had a royal snit fit, called him a soft touch … among other nasty things … but for once she didn’t get her way and she’s in more than a little bit of shock because of it. Right now she is in their bedroom with the door shut and locked and says she won’t come out until he kicks me and Bam-Bam out. He didn’t shout or anything like they usually get into, he just set a gallon of water by the door and then put a new locking deadbolt on the pantry … and didn’t that freak Trish and her brother Terry out. They are used to their mom getting her way all the time. They are used to having their own way all the time. The new dynamics is screwing with their worldview that tells them they are the center of the universe, and they aren’t too pleased about it.

Derek’s cool. He isn’t nearly as scary as he looks. He looks like a biker dude. Heck, he used to be a biker dude. It took a while for my dad to warm up to him, but they became friends after Derek gave up boozing and biking and settled down to own his own welding company. Even so I was surprised as heck when he showed up at the half-way house and said I have a place to stay for the duration when he heard on the radio that this area of town was put on mandatory evacuation. I’m thankful but feel bad for the hassle he is getting over it. He wouldn’t let me apologize. He wouldn’t let me say anything at all about it. The only thing he said was that he made his bed and now he had to sleep in it; that he needed to set the example and he hoped eventually they would come around. See, Derek recently got religion. I don’t mean anything bad by it. It is actually a good thing. I’m not going to get into Derek’s private business but the lawyer handling my case kinda talked to him and I guess led him to church and then “led him to the Lord” is how Derek says it. That’s fine. I may not completely get it, but it has done something for Derek that he needed, that’s good enough for me.

I used to go to church with my parents but that all stopped after Momma … wait … geez, none of this is going to make sense to Bam-Bam when he grows up and reads it if I don’t start from the beginning, or at least from his beginning. Actually, I need to start before his beginning and that is going to take some time.

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 1 (Part 1)

My name is Doe. No really, that’s my name. Doe McCormick. For those interested, it used to be Baby Girl Doe. I was found wrapped up in some trash from an evacuation center where a lot of people went during a tropical storm that caused damage and flooding the night I was born. They thought they had narrowed it down to which location the trash came from, but my biological womb provider was never identified. I was a micro-preemie and shouldn’t have lived. That’s the God’s honest truth as I was told it over and over until people got over their surprise that not only was I found alive but that I made it. Well, I did, just with the kind of problems that doesn’t make finding adoptive parents easy.

I was in foster care for two years. Not really appealing to most people to think about adopting that kid in the hospital crib with all the wires and tubes attached to her and a face that not even Frankenstein’s mommy could have loved. No, that isn’t self-pity; it is realism in the face of those that would try and paint a rose-colored picture to make themselves feel better. I try not and lie, especially not to myself, you avoid unnecessary pain that way. But, despite the crappy beginning, eventually I got lucky.

Sergeant Blake McCormick heard about me from someone at the precinct that had answered a domestic call at an overcrowded foster home for special needs kids. Sergeant McCormick and his wife Danyelle had tried for 10 years to have kids before they tried to adopt. They didn’t have any better luck trying to get a kid that way since a lot of agencies blackballed them because he was a cop and there were guns in the house. For whatever reason, that month the State was feeling generous … mostly because they were desperate to get kids out of their inventory before a new law took effect restricting the number of kids they could assign any given case worker, and restricting the number of kids the State could take in during any given quarter of the fiscal year. In record time I finally got a last name. More importantly, I got parents who wanted and loved me.

Being adopted is a pretty big deal for a foster kid. For those with parents, it is accepting that the ones you used to have you lost (or they lost you) and finally someone else wanted you enough to go through everything to give you their last name. For those that never had parents, it is like winning the lottery; the older you are, or the more challenged you are lowers your odds of winning. Even though I was a desirable age for adoption, I had too many things wrong with me to really be “marketable” by the adoption agencies. But still, it seems providential that I was wanted the way they said. But fairytales are just fake stories and don’t happen in real life all that often. I had a fairytale of sorts and then real life came along and tore down Cinderella’s castle.

I was blessed to have both my parents until I was 14. That’s more than some kids ever get. I don’t take that for granted. I could draw the sad story out forever but that’s not what they would want and while I didn’t have them a lifetime, they gave me a lifetime of love so I will always honor them. They picked me. They were told about all the problems I might have for the rest of my life, but they still picked me. And they loved me and gave me a chance that no one else had ever even considered. That’s worth honoring.

Things were financially tight when I was first adopted – I wasn’t a cheap kid to have because of all the medical stuff wrong with me – but life got better for all of us after that first little hump. Dad eventually made detective, earned tons of commendations and stuff and closed a lot of cases and got a promotion because of it. That’s when he was handed a cold case that had been pretty high-profile when it first happened back in the dark ages. Then along comes the anniversary of what happened and the family of the victim started making a lot of noise to the media about it never being solved even after a lot of years had passed. People weren’t real happy with that state of affairs, not to mention all of the bad publicity they didn’t need, so the big muckety-mucks wanted to prove they had their best men on it to avoid any more political or budgetary aggravation. A lot of new leads turned up because of the media exposure and the case got hot again; great for some people, not so for others. It turns out the small-time criminal that did the deed way back when had become a big-time crime boss and he was not pleased at the idea that he was going to be taken down by the death of a two-bit escort girl that had been an accidental killing to begin with.

Dad was working late one night when he and his partner were ambushed and killed. The big-time crime boss decided to take care of things himself so he wouldn’t owe anyone only he forgot that cops now had dash cams in their autocars and mandatory body cams on duty even when they weren’t wearing uniforms. It was a slam dunk and people told Mom and I we should be happy about that. I wanted to slam dunk them for saying something so stupid. I wanted my dad, not another commendation and a cold headstone to go with it.

Then nine months later one of Momma’s defective ovaries became cancerous and she is gone before another 4 months passes, as much from the radical cancer treatments as from the cancer itself. But in that four months she crammed every bit of teaching she could. She fought to live as long as she could and that lesson alone has kept me going when it would’ve been so much easier to give up and die. Dad’s example… Mom’s example… and Bam Bam. That is what keeps me going. I’ve got more reasons to hang on than to let go, it’s just a matter of reminding myself of that on the days that life feels too hard to keep going.

I was 15. Parentless again. A grieving orphan … and yeah, I realize how pathetic and Dickensonian that sounds but that’s the way it was. And trying to figure out what came next didn’t exactly distract from the misery I was living. In the process I trusted the wrong people. Or maybe it was I didn’t trust the right people. Looking back I can sorta see it was both. Analyzing it hasn’t changed what happened. I might understand better how it happened but that only helps a little, and sometimes not at all. They say time helps. I don’t think they really know what they are talking about. All time does is change you, it doesn’t change what happened to you. All you can really do is use time to learn to live with what you can’t change.

People still tried to call me special-needs despite the fact that I’d managed to outlive and outgrow how I started. I didn’t do that on my own, I had a lot of help. And not just from my parents who taught me what it meant to be a real person and not just some thing that only lived in a hospital crib. But once you get a label hung on you that’s all that people want to see. It isn’t that there wasn’t some reason for it in the beginning but what the heck was all the help I was receiving for if not to let me live beyond the original label? I had surgeries on my eyes and ears and while neither is perfect I don’t need glasses except for reading, or hearing aids though I have something called APD that is a real challenge on some days. I cracked 5 foot in height – which is more than the doctors originally thought – and while I’m not real tall I don’t qualify as real short either unless I’m standing next to a basketball player. Surgery corrected the cleft in my face and palate, and speech therapy helped me conquer the lisp and the stutter. Braces and some other junk fixed the rest of the wonky stuff that went wrong with my mouth except that I’m short my wisdom teeth where they had to take out the tooth buds during one of the corrective surgeries. The only other thing that really gets in my way is that it’s a pain in the tush to find shoes that fit. Daddy used to tease me and say I didn’t have feet, but toothpicks with toes. That’s not far off the mark and he was only teasing in fun, not to be mean. So, since Florida is home, I lived in flip-flops and sandals as much as possible which is 99% of the year. The other thing is that the medicine they gave me to catch me up kind of overshot the mark in some areas and I hit puberty early … try eight years old. I didn’t just start my menses but got hair and boobs where women tend to have them. Maybe that is TMI for you Bam-Bam but it was my reality and if you are going to understand me, and understand how you came to be, you unfortunately get the nitty gritty along with the happy or sappy. Bottom line is that I learned the facts of life early and makes what happened later even more ironic.

So like I said, there I was 15 years old and between one thing and another I was struggling to figure out why I’d been found instead of just going in the landfill. I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself exactly. I didn’t want to die. I just didn’t know what my purpose for living was so didn’t act too keen on it continuing. And then the family I had left unilaterally decided I was to live with my paternal step grandmother and her new husband. Yeah … sounds weird when it is said like that but lots of kids have nontraditional families these days. I know I was lucky to have someplace to go but the luck didn’t last long.

Ree-Ree (she considered “grandmother” an ageist stigma) was a social worker slash child psychologist before she retired. She was also what Momma used to call, more than a little full of herself. Essentially, she was the type of person that could debate a stump into a coma. She and Daddy weren’t what you would call close as they had different views about accountability and all that type of stuff, but they still considered each other family even after Daddy‘s father died. So it isn’t like I didn’t know her when I went to live in her house. I just didn’t know what I would be getting myself into by going to live in her house.

By and large everyone considered the move a good thing and thought it was the perfect solution for what to do with me. Plus, everyone whispered where I wasn’t supposed to hear, I could earn my keep by helping her with her new husband that was recently diagnosed with dementia and fading fast. Wasn’t the best really, but it was convenient … for everyone else but me. But that’s when I found out just how different her worldview was from the one I’d been raised with.

Maybe I was a little spoiled but then again I was never allowed to get away with much at home. And there were never any excuses because I was adopted, or started out medically challenged, or anything like that. I towed the line just like anyone else would have had to. The one thing my parents conceded was that I learned differently and in the beginning just wasn’t a good fit for your average classroom situation. I was homeschooled up until Mama got sick and then she enrolled me in the school district’s virtual school and also into online classes at the local college after I passed the CPT (college placement test). Strike one was that Ree-Ree really didn’t believe that parents should be able to homeschool their own child, that it should even be legal, so against my pediatrician’s advice she immediately put me in public school. What a hassle that was. However, as much as I hated it, it wound up being the only refuge I had; but, that’s not saying much.

Once enrolled it took a lot of fighting to prove I wasn’t a candidate for any of the special ed programs. Ree-Ree and some of her friends swore up-and-down that I had to be behind both scholastically and socially. They just didn’t want to believe that Mom could have done an adequate job, that any parent could do the job as well as a teacher could. Plus, they still believed the way I was originally labeled. Strike two was it turned out I was anything but behind, and the proof of that through academic test after academic test embarrassed Ree-Ree, and her friends that were high up in the school district’s administrative food chain. Those friends decided to take a wait and see attitude but Ree-Ree couldn’t let it go. She is one of those people that must be right at all costs. She started saying the teachers had to be playing PC and passing me just to get rid of me. She would take me out of class without warning for exams and tests until even her friends started thinking she was the one that was a few fries short of a value meal.

Eventually she stopped but it wasn’t because she’d changed her opinion. Nope. She stopped because she got a new hobby horse to ride. She started living on the sympathy she got as Bob‘s dementia turned from bad to worse. Worse for Ree-Ree that Bob thought she was his mother which really burned her tail feathers as she was sorta vain about looking younger than her age. Worse for me was when he started to confuse me with his first wife. See, Bob was still a good-looking man and still in decent physical shape. He was in his 50s but looked younger; same as Ree-Ree. Even with proof easily provided, people had a hard time believing he was cognitively challenged. When I complained that he wouldn’t leave me alone, I was told just to gently remind him who I was. And when that didn’t work to just ignore it. What they didn’t have to deal with is that he would get angry if I tried to correct or ignore him. Then he got paranoid and finally his happy-go-lucky, child-of-the-new-age personality morphed and he became controlling, conniving, and abusive.

I used to lock my room to keep him out. Then Ree-Ree got her own kind of paranoid and took the lock off, trying to say I was being a passive aggressive teenager. She thought – or maybe had to believe – that I was making a mountain out of a mole hill. I just stopped listening to her and her complaints when everyone else stopped listening to me. That was strike three in my book.

Things were so messed up. In hindsight I know I should have talked to someone. The school resource officer or the guidance counselor would have listened. Or the grief counselor the pediatrician referred me to. Then again maybe not. But who knows for sure? I never gave them a chance, so I’ll never know. And even if no one believed me it would have gotten what was happening on record. But when you’re in the middle of a crap storm and not knowing who to trust sometimes you jump the wrong way or don’t jump fast enough to stay out of reach of the Bad Thing that’s looming over you.

A Bad Thing finally happened to me and it wasn’t just a pretend boogey man scratching at the window in the middle of the night. I woke up with Bob on top of me, nearly smothering me as he was trying to force me to respond to his advances. Of course, I objected but he wouldn’t get off. He may have been mentally frail, but he was still physically strong. He was also cunning. I didn’t know it at the time, but he’d doped Ree-Ree. That’s why she didn’t respond to my screams for help. It took most of the night. It was so surreal that even now it seems less real than what came before and afterwards.

I finally got away by climbing out of the window and running down the street. I was pretty messed up by then. My refusal to be part of his fantasy caused him to have a very, very violent reaction. I won’t bother with the details. You don’t really need them. Suffice it to say, that is the beginning of the part of the story that tells how a girl that had been thrown away as a piece of trash at birth refused to throw another baby away just because his beginning was trashy.

I did think for a while about giving Bam-Bam up for adoption. It’s what you do if you want what is best for the baby if you know you aren’t in much of a position to give them what they are going to need in life either emotionally or financially, or you don’t have the social support network to help you to be responsible in those areas. I wasn’t scared of making the decision, but it did make me sad until I remembered that I had wonderful adoptive parents. Most adopted kids have good families. And they go on to have good lives no matter what kind of lives their biological parents wind up having. Very few of them have lives that turn into the soap opera that my life has been, and I was content to make the decision to give him up. But then something happened to change my mind.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 1 (Part 2)

The tests and blood work and stuff came back abnormal. The re-tests came back abnormal too. There was big time pressure for me to have an abortion but I was able to stave them off until it was legally too late even though they’d tried to get a court order to have it done with or without my cooperation. Then they kept at me saying things like he would be special needs or maybe not even make it to be born, or might not live long after that. It was then that I decided to be the mom God picked for him for as long as I could. I wasn’t trying to be heroic or anything like that. It just seemed that no one was taking his part in all of this. I had a friend with Down’s Syndrome one time explain to me that his life was worth living even if it wasn’t a life anyone else would pick; and, that he was glad his mother had ignored people telling her that an abortion was a good option. That kind of thing will make you think if you have any soul at all, and for all that had happened to me I still had mine. I had had someone save me even if no one considered me worth much. I wanted to give that same thing to the baby I was carrying. I didn’t want him to get thrown away just because he might be different.

A lot of people wanted to get in on that decision but they missed the cut off. I was 16 and the law said I had a right to make my own choices for both me and my baby, without undue influence from anyone else or agency. I did have to go to family court but that was OK; it’s not like I hadn’t been there before. The court said that I might have the legal right to make my decisions, but they had the legal obligation to oversee the results of my decisions and try and guide me so that I didn’t become a burden on society, or at least they did until I was legally an adult or emancipated. The judge assigned me a guardian ad litem who, as it turned out, had a brother that was a lawyer. For reasons of his own, reasons he never discussed with me though I kinda had the feeling it had to do with something personal, he took on my case pro bono. My guardian ad litem helped me get a room in a halfway house, register for school – because even though I was 16 and could have dropped out it was a condition for getting housing – helped me sign up for some other classes too; and these were on top of the required parenting and daily living skills training required by the half-way house. Her brother the lawyer helped me get my own bank account, transfer all the legal paperwork I needed, and even took my parents’ estate and put it in trust so no one could get at it or take it away for me.

The charity that runs the halfway house is strict and very regimented but at the same time life is very real there. The purpose is to prepare us to have a place of our own and take care of our kid full-time without financial assistance having to prop us up. Their goal is to turn us into contributing members of society, not ones dependent on government handouts or charity. The way I understand it, the newest overhaul of the system means that to receive any kind of government benefits … from social security to federal and state pensions down to WIC and food stamps … you have to go to yearly classes and have a complete financial review. The most anyone can qualify for, above and beyond social security or their government pension, is one public dollar for every three private charity dollars you receive. It used to be the government paid for everything, now they hardly pay for anything; and what you do receive is taxed every bit as hard as private money is. The private charities are also a lot pickier than the government social workers ever were allowed to be. The rules are really tough for some charities, or they only serve a very narrow population … like at the halfway house where I live you have to be under eighteen with a baby under two and you can only have one baby. You can also get kicked off any program if you have more kids while you are accepting financial support. You can get kicked off programs for any violation of their rules at all. When that first started there were riots and a lot of mess that people like my dad had to deal with but I guess some kind of tipping point had been reached, the pendulum swung, or whatever else you might want to call it and people didn’t have any choice but to follow the new rules or suffer the consequences. I heard this person on the tv say one time, “The tax payers have spoken. Widows and orphans come first. Then comes retirees that paid into the tax system with the expectation of getting retirement bennies. After that you better be prepared to deal with your situation because a hand up you can earn, a hand out is going to be scarce as hen’s teeth with lots of rules and stipulations that come along with it.”

There are still people who game the system. There will always be people like that. But these days if you get caught doing it you don’t get your hand smacked; you get thrown in jail, have to pay restitution, and you can kiss goodbye getting any other kind of federal or state assistance ever and the private charities blackball you on top of that. Took about two years and a crapton of housecleaning and listening to a lot of people cry and moan and groan at how unfair it all was, but the courts eventually cleared out with a lot of people shocked by their new permanent circumstances.

I was good with the rules and still am. Some of the other girls I ran into not so much. They want to have a kid yet still be a kid themselves and not be responsible. Even though getting pregnant wasn’t my fault, I did make the choice to stay pregnant and then keep Bam-Bam. I don’t feel penalized or anything. It was and is my choice. Besides, I figure the kid part of my life is dead and buried and maybe has been since Momma died. Some of the other girls living in the halfway house have yet to figure their crap out and just roll from one poor decision to the next like they can’t be bothered to do it any other way. I feel bad for their kids but frankly only have enough energy to take care of Bam-Bam and myself. Other people’s problems are their problems and I keep my nose out of it. Maybe my compassion bone broke or something. I don’t know. I’ve decided to live and let live. I don’t tell other people what to do and I don’t want them telling me what to do, at least beyond what authority I recognize … like house rules, community rules, and stuff like that.

I know what I want for Bam-Bam … and myself … and that’s enough to be getting on with on the resources I’ve got to use. Besides like I said, at 18 years old I need to have a plan of some type because the half-way house is only for minors with children under two years of age. I’m working on it. I have a couple of work from home type jobs, plus I sell things online like on the website call SecondTimeAround. I find the stuff to sell at yard sales, thrift stores, and estate sales. I’ve even dumpster dived a few times though it is easier to ask at the back door of businesses if they have anything they need hauled off. I’ve made good money that way because the dumpster companies are pretty dang picky about what they will allow for pick up and the landfills have all of these crazy rules too. I also have the money from my parents’ life insurance and from the sale of the house and stuff, what the lawyer calls their estate; but, I won’t see much of that until I’m 25. Until then I need to do everything I can myself. My bill-paying money comes from survivor’s benefits I receive from Social Security and I’m lucky the charity that runs the half-way house doesn’t ask for a penny for room and board because most of that money gets used paying for things Bam-Bam needs, our transportation, and for other stuff like that.

Momma always told me to be creative in my solutions to problems that come up. Daddy called it thinking outside the box and being self-motivated. I don’t care what you call it, I’m just thankful they taught me those types of skills because I can tell you I’d be deep in dog do if I didn’t have them. Being responsible for myself is hard and expensive; being responsible for my baby has seriously given me heart burn. But I’m figuring things out with the little bit of space that the charity has bought me. Take clothes for instance; the clothes we have may not be brand new and may be someone else’s cast offs, but they are clean and in good repair. Her last four months of life one of the things Momma taught me was to sew. She thought it was a vital skill to have and even bought me a pretty nice sewing machine as my last birthday present. And there was an older girl I met at the halfway house that traded me crochet lessons for babysitting her kid so she could take a night class and finish her GED. I’m teaching myself to needlepoint and do some other fancy embroidery stitches by watching videos online. The one thing that is free in a lot of places is wifi and I’ve used it to do my homework, learn new skills, and make money; I don’t know where I would be without it. I even got a printer out of a dumpster that still had some life left in it and I print stuff out and put it in this ginormous three ring binder I got out of another dumpster diving expedition.

I’ve taken those skills – new and old – and made over items that I find for cheap at yard sales or in the clearance barrel at the thrift store down the road. Sometimes I’ll find a nice name-brand blouse or dress someplace and I’ll clean and press it and then sell it on Ebay for several times what I have into it. Ebay and Amazon are also good places to sell the books I find at estate sales. SecondTimeAround and the rebooted local versions of FreeCycle and BarterCentral is where I get rid of what I can’t sell in other places. I’ve also gotten a few things there; a little bit of give and take. All of that is adding up even after I buy stuff that Bam-Bam needs, like his extra special liquid vitamins that he really hates and the expensive diapers that the charity requires us to use because they decompose in landfills better than the store-bought ones do. I’d go to cloth diapers if I could but I have to take our laundry around the corner to the laundromat and they don’t let you wash dirty diapers in their machines. Rules, rules, rules. I know you gotta have them but too many of them get in the way.

I already have enough money saved for a first and last month’s rent plus security deposit for this apartment complex that is within walking distance of the state college where I am taking online classes as a dual enrollment student. The more I save the more cushion I will have. But the more I save the more I have to lose too.

No one knows how much money I really have, not even my Guardian ad litem. I think her lawyer/brother might suspect because he lectured me long and hard on being careful but always keeping cash on hand for emergencies; that having money in the bank is important but there might be a day or an emergency that getting to the bank might not be easy. I keep my cash hidden in this special secret pocket I sewed into my purse and I keep my purse on me or locked up and hidden at all times. I won’t write down how much it is, but it is a lot more than a little bit. But if I know anything at all, I know that money can’t fix everything. It can’t fix that Daddy and Momma are gone. It can’t fix what Bob did even though some people think I should have sued them for emotional distress or something along those lines. And it can’t fix the terrible weather we’ve been having.

I just started my senior year of high school, or I’ve tried to. Seriously. School started the middle of August and here it is the beginning of October and we’ve already been out of school for two hurricanes and one tropical storm. Now this. Hurricane Hildebeast is what they’re calling it. It is really storm #8 of the season and is called Hillary. I think the stupid name is a political reference to some woman that used to be important, or so said the news commentator on tv that smiled so wide she looked like she had more teeth than a shark. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, it is just a name. It’s the mess the storm is leaving in its wake that is the problem. It was the strongest hurricane in recorded history when it was over Puerto Rico and supposedly all contact with the island has been lost. The US Virgin Islands isn’t in any better condition. Cuba, Haiti and the Dominican Republic, and all those little Caribbean nations blinked out one right after another as the storm passed over or near them. It is almost like the storm is an eraser, wiping away places.

The news is getting scary because the storm isn’t slowing down or getting weaker. You can see it on the faces of the local reporters who are beginning to feel the effects in South Florida, hear it in the voices of public officials being interviewed on the radio. Even the ones from the national media networks and the ones that are the real adrenaline junkies only seem to want to hunker down when normally they’d be out in the wind, rain, and surf. I bet it was that reporter getting squished on live TV that did it. He was down near the beach in one of the parking lots when a rogue wave came up and slammed into the cars. It picked a couple of them up and suddenly, cameras rolling, the reporter got book ended between a van and a big SUV. They finally got the live feed shut down, but everyone had already heard the screams and saw as one of his legs was pulled out to sea as the water receded nearly as quickly as it had come up.

That’s when Aunt Darla reached a tipping point and retreated to her room with her ultimatum for cold comfort. That’s also when Derek decided he wasn’t giving in. It’s also when Trish and Terry started to really show their back ends. Not sure if they were feeding off Aunt Darla’s attitude or if maybe they were more scared than they were letting on and not expressing themselves very constructively. Either way the two of them retreated the same way Aunt Darla had. Not long after that the power in this neighborhood went off. I don’t know what caused it because even though there was already some rain the wind hadn’t even reached tropical storm force yet. People that don’t know how to entertain themselves really come unraveled when the power is out.

Trish got irritated at Derek telling her to stop wasting the battery on her phone since we don’t know when the power is going to come back on. Terry is out on the lanai just zoning because Derek won’t let him use his laptop for his virtual reality headset. Terry lives in virtual reality more than he lives in real reality and is having a very hard time being unplugged. Terry is supposed to be on meds for VR addiction, but he lies about taking them, and Aunt Darla doesn’t make him like she was court ordered to. They’ll catch him at his next screening and then he’ll get sent to court ordered bootcamp. I’ve heard VR withdrawal is really bad. There’s a girl two doors down from me at the halfway house whose boyfriend got sent to rehab for VR addiction. She said that a lot of people go really crazy at first and her boyfriend nearly stroked out because his body had big-time problems creating the right chemicals in the right amounts to keep the neurons in his brain healthy and happy and doing the jobs they are supposed to do. I don’t want that for Terry, he used to be a good guy, but he’s basically a zombie if he doesn’t have his VR headset on. It is pretty freaky to be around and he can be a little dangerous when he forgets which world he is in … there are no do-overs in the real world and as Derek finally pointed out the obvious the last time he took Terry to the ER, “the law of gravity applies in this world.”

In the old days Derek would have just ignored Trish and Terry and let them reap the consequences and told them to go complain to their mother. He’s Aunt Darla’s fifth husband. She’s a cougar and kind of wears the younger guys out and then moves on to a fresh one when they’ve had enough. But he is also the one that has lasted the longest; they’ve been married almost six years. Unlike in the past, these days he is trying to be responsible and be the man of the house, not just wear the title while Aunt Darla wears the pants. And he explained it just like that too, right before telling me to get Bam-Bam and all our stuff and go shut ourselves in the guest half bathroom.

He said that I’m probably in the safest room in the house. There are no windows and the walls are all reinforced where Aunt Darla’s second husband had remodeled it and put tile on the walls. Being safe is a good thing but sitting here in cramped quarters hasn’t exactly been a joy. I was getting bored until I found this penlight in the bottom of my purse. The new wore off sitting between the toilet and the pedestal sink trying to keep Bam-Bam from crying real fast. I decided to do something constructive with my time and write this for Bam-Bam. But I think it is time to get some rest. Bam-Bam is going to want to eat pretty soon.

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 2 (Part 1)

It’s been a long while since I’ve written. I forgot about this journal, but I found it in the lining of my old suitcase after I finally started to believe I’ve found a place for us to stay for more than a night or two. This place isn’t much compared to what I used to be able to call home but compared to the way things have been since the storm, it is a slice of paradise.

No more camps. No more chained link fences. No more armed guards. No more gangs. No more worrying what someone is going to make you pay for protection. No more being afraid to sleep because the thing they might want in payment is Bam-Bam. There is a roof over our heads even if it is just an old floor, and it’s warm and dry and I thought I forgot what that felt like. My feet have been cold for so long and now they are downright toasty. And the only roommate we have is one of my own choosing. But just like Derek told us to stay in the bathroom that night, the Quiet Guy told us to stay here while he went out. I think he might have gone hunting, I’m not sure. He doesn’t exactly explain things all the time. He’d gotten so much better, but things have been rough and I think he slid back more than a little bit. I could be worried that he might not come back but I’m not. He’s gone off before, but he always comes back. Plus, he left his backpack here with all his stuff in it. That has to mean something.

But being safe has given me time to get bored. It’s kind of a weird feeling being bored. Having time to be bored is a luxury I haven’t had in a while. That’s when I went looking for something to keep my skin from wanting to crawl away with the Heebies. I do not like feeling bored, it gives me time to worry about things I can’t change or do anything about. And after piddling around playing housekeeper in this hobbit hole I found this composition book and it seems like as good a time as any to continue the story.

I’ve just managed to get Bam-Bam down for the night. He’s crazy smart and now that he’s walking, running, and climbing every chance he gets, it is a constant fear for me that he is going to get into something and get hurt. I’m really worried about the fireplace, but the Quiet Guy fixed it so that Bam Bam can’t get too close and get burned. I don’t know where he found it but it is some kind of cage, or was some kind of cage, or some kind of fence, I’m not sure. He bent it so that there is a gate that my baby can’t get over or through but that lets the heat and light from the fireplace into this end of the room. To say thank you I decided to clean what I could as well as I could but there isn’t a lot I can do with no broom beyond the little dust brush I picked up somewhere in our migration in search of a new life and a place to live it. I also set up our beds and decided to unpack a few things and that’s when I found this book. The fire gives off just enough light – Quiet Guy brought in a bunch of wood and told me not to let the fire go out – and I’ll write until he comes back, or the pen runs out. I’ve had to learn to live with a lot of stuff running out since the storm. It is now a way of life. I’m not the only one that has had to learn to live this way; but you also learn to do what you can with what you have. And that’s what I’m doing.

Starting where I left off isn’t pleasant but it begins our current story so it must be done. Back to the storm, the dark, the other boredom that got me started writing this journal just like boredom that has me starting it this time too.

I had turned off my penlight and then nursed Bam-Bam. I had just finished changing him – his diapers didn’t really stink back then – when Derek knocks and then opens the door real quick. “Scootch over girl. I want to put this stuff in here. Chop chop. Move it. A little more the other direction.”

“This stuff” turned out to be my suitcase with our belongings in it, a couple of gallon jugs of water, and a plastic tub of what he said was hurricane supplies.

In a rush he said, “I know it’s tight, but the storm is picking up. I’m going to see if I can get Darla to see reason and if not, I’ll take the kids and go into the utility room whether they want to or not. You stay in here. The storm is going to be bad. The power is out in most of Florida, from the Keys all the way up passed Ocala last I heard. Reminds me of hurricane Irma when I was just a kid, but I don’t think we’re going to dodge the bullet this time. It’s bouncing up the West Coast and it’s now making a beeline for the mouth of Tampa Bay. It’s a toss-up which is going to be worse … wind, rain, or the storm surge. Now stay in here.”

I barely had time to say yes sir before he shut the door. Then I heard him doing something that scared the crap out of me; he hammered something across the door

“Hey! Hey!! Derek?! What are you doing?!!”

I could just barely make out Derek saying that he’d take the sheet of plywood down after the storm passed and that it shouldn’t be long because the storm would be here within the hour.

I freaked for a few minutes until Bam-Bam started crying so I nursed him even though I was sore; but, those endorphin things kicked in and Doe went off to La La Land. I could hear the storm making the house moan and groan, but it wasn’t scaring me … or at least it wasn’t until I heard something break somewhere in the house. Then it was like the whole house was shaking.

I didn’t have much room to move but I put Bam Bam in his carrier and got us both backed into a corner as much as possible and pulled things around us. Then I felt air come rushing in under the door, a lot of air, air that shouldn’t have been doing what it was doing. Then it got real loud and something hit the door hard enough to knock tiles off the wall and make the air dusty and musty. That’s when things started to get freaky; the air started screaming. I know how that sounds but that’s what I heard. The wind was whipping around, banging into things, and screaming like it was terrified and unable to find the right direction to go. Then there was some kind of growl behind the scream, like what had been chasing the wind and scaring it crazy had finally caught up. I barely had time to cover Bam Bam when an even bigger noise came. Then something fell from the ceiling and cut me a good one in the head and the best I can say for a while that it was like a psychedelic nightmare you’re having that you know isn’t real but you can’t wake up either.

#####

I must have gone to sleep for real at some point because what woke me was water dripping on the back of my neck and the sensation of sitting in yet more water. I panicked trying to remember why everything was so dark I couldn’t see, and panicked more until I found Bam-Bam. He was wet and shaking and I knew that was bad. I pulled him out of his carrier, pulled off his soaking wet onesie and put him skin to skin under my shirt while I tried to find his diaper bag so I could get him out of the wet diaper he had on too. It took a few scary minutes, but he stopped shaking and started snuffling like a hungry little pig which I took to be a good sign. Feeding him calmed me down some and I felt around me some more. What I felt was not encouraging.

There was a couple of inches of water on the floor and it didn’t smell all that fantastic. Some of the water seemed to be coming from the ceiling, but the gap at the bottom of the door should have let it out. Instead of letting water out, it seemed to be letting more water in. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I knew I needed to get Bam-Bam and I out. Knocking and banging then kicking the door didn’t seem to do any good. Finally I heard something outside and then there was a lot of noise like something was being moved. Then there was a rip and a crack. And then I almost fell out of the door, as it was jerked open. I didn’t recognize the man and he scared me. I jump back in and grabbed Bam-Bam and I don’t know what I thought I was going to do because there was no other way out of the room.

“Easy girly,” he said. “We have you. Everything is going to be okay.” He turned and yelled, “Get an EMT over here. We found a live one. And there’s a baby too!”

I heard a lot of cheering but was too busy feeling like Dorothy. You know like when she says, “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore Toto.”

There was nothing outside the door that should have been there. Well there was stuff, but it was spread all over the place and there was daylight where there shouldn’t have been daylight. Slowly the picture started making some sense. At least a little sense. Well, not really much sense but I was beginning to figure out the reality of what had happened during the storm, but it started with more information than my brain was willing or able to process. The roof was gone. Most of the walls weren’t standing anymore either. Pipes were sticking up through all of the debris where the kitchen, utility room, and other bathroom used to be. The twinkle of shattered glass was everywhere like a heavy dew. Furniture was under stuff on stuff but never turned the direction that it was supposed to be, never in the condition it was supposed to be. And some of what was there hadn’t started out in the house but must have come from someone else’s. Something very, very bad had happened. But I didn’t have time to wonder at it too much because that is when the EMT showed up.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 2 (Part 2)

Maybe I was in some kind of shock because I couldn’t seem to get any questions passed my teeth. I was barely able to answer the questions asked of me. My name came first. I answered, “Doe. Doe McCormick “. Then they wanted to know if the baby was mine. I explained yes he was mine, and his name is Blake McCormick only I call him Bam-Bam. I saw them looking at each other like I wasn’t all right in the head. I figure looking back, well I figure everyone was, that I was pretty out of it. I wanted to explain that I wasn’t going to panic or have hysterics. That my dad had been a cop and he explained that that was the worst thing somebody could do regardless of how scared or confused you were. Plus, I’d already done enough of that to last a lifetime when I had lost my parents and then had to deal with everything else life threw at me afterwards. But I didn’t say that; I didn’t volunteer any information. And that’s when I saw the hand.

I recognized the tattoo. Derek had recently been talking about having it removed because he was ashamed of what he had been. The tattoo was sorta Satanic and he’d gotten it the one time he had to go to prison. He hadn’t been much older than me and hadn’t been thinking about what that tattoo would mean down the road more than a few years and how it would make other people think of him. Now he would never have to worry about getting it removed. That is when I started shaking. That is also when I started to let myself look further than Aunt Darla’s house.

The entire neighborhood was a wasteland. Houses were knocked over and cars were upside down. Most of the trees were split and torn apart. There was stuff all over the road that used to be in all the houses up and down the street. At least they were in what was left of the road; a lot of the road looked like it had been torn up and washed out. Worst of all I saw a bunch of things covered up with black plastic slowly being loaded onto a truck. I knew what they were. They were bodies.

That’s when a woman wearing a FEMA reflective vest kind of growled and said, “Can we get the girl out of here? Here come the vultures.” The big man shoved Bam-Bam in my arms and picked us both up but it was too late, and I realized the “vultures” were reporters and camera people. They started shouting questions and clicking pictures and I don’t know what came over me but when they finally knocked it back to a dull roar I said, “Instead of acting like a bunch of VR addicts you could put your tech down and help look for people since you seem so excited that I was found. Maybe y’all could find the next one. But don’t let common sense or anything like that get in the way of acting like a troop of ADHD monkeys.”

The FEMA woman looked at me for a moment then turned to everyone and asked, “Did your live feed pick that up Folks? Good. I believe she has said her piece. Now back up and give her some breathing room while we run this caution tape around the scene.”

While they ran the yellow tape the EMTs looked me and Bam-Bam over. They wanted to take him from me but I wasn’t having any of that. I learned in the hospital they just take your baby and run off with him and don’t want to tell you where or when they’ll bring him back. Uh uh. That was not happening again. I also wouldn’t turn loose of the suitcase with all of our important pictures, papers, and basic necessities in it. They finally gave up though it was grudgingly. I don’t think they were bad people, it is just sometimes good intentions can do more harm than help.

The big man that had done the actual rescuing said, “You’ll do.” Then he made sure that I drank some kind of funky electrolyte drink and helped me to put some things together that weren’t ruined – bottles of water, baby naps, and nearly a plastic tub full of what turned out to be food and “hurricane supplies” that Derek had shoved into the room before boarding over the door. While he was helping me do that, I finally realized he was keeping me distracted from where people were digging Derek out; or what was left of him. Even without wanting to, I realized his body was pretty mangled. He had been impaled on something during the storm and it looked like his body was bending in places it wasn’t meant to bend. I overheard the EMTs say that he must’ve been dead before that because there wasn’t enough blood. Near him they found Aunt Darla and Trish. Both of them had been crushed by the washer and dryer. Terry was nowhere to be found. I explained the family connections and dynamics to the lady with the FEMA vest who was writing everything down on her tablet and sending it off to be put with the other information they were gathering from all over the city.

I guess the shock was starting to wear off because I was beginning to wonder what was going to happen to Bam-Bam and I. I began to wonder if the whole city was destroyed. And if the whole city had been destroyed, that meant no halfway house to go back to. It meant no lawyer to help me with the trust that really held the future for Bam-Bam and I. It meant no school to go back to so that one day Bam-Bam and I could have a better life and not dependent on the Trust or anything else. At least a life better than living on charity and handouts. I know that was kinda selfish to be worrying about that but only sorta because I also wondered how many other people out there were going to be just like me. Wondering what was in their own future.

I sat there for a long time. It must’ve been eight or nine hours easily. No ambulance came. No bus came to pick me up like they had said would happen. There was no rescue like you see in the movies. No cavalry arriving at the last possible moment. Even the reporters with the cameras left to go to the next scene of destruction. Finally, it was growing dark and the people that had been looking for more survivors – and not finding any – said the curfew would soon go into effect and they wondered what to do with the only two survivors that they had found. The big man said, “I’ll take her.”

Nobody objected, not even the FEMA lady, which told me just how bad things really had to be. I was a little scared of going with a stranger, but I was even more scared of being left in the middle of that nightmare all alone. Throughout the day we began to hear guns and sirens and people screaming and crying. There wasn’t much standing to get in the way of the sound carrying so I could never figure out how close … or far away … the people were. No one seemed inclined to leave their sector and go find out what was happening. All any of us seemed to be able to do was focus on what was happening right in front of us.

I wasn’t sure which way to turn. The big man said to call him JR. He laughed when I insisted on calling him Mr. JR. Instead of riding in a car or truck we walked. At first Mr. JR used what I think was a refrigerator dolly to haul my belongings with while I carried Bam-Bam and his carrier. Then, in the middle of another zone of complete destruction he found a grocery cart that was strangely un-mangled and put all my stuff in it; first the storage tub with the food and hurricane supplies, then on top of that he put my suitcase. And I fixed Bam-Bam‘s carrier so that it sat in the little kid part of the buggy where the seat was. Then as we walked along Mr. JR also found some rope and a plastic tarp. When I asked what it was for he replied, “You never know when you might need it. Better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it.”

I’ve been living by that mantra ever since. There have been times when I look like a bag lady but I have never regretted it.

We walked until well after dark; even hiding in bushes sometimes when cops or people on foot came in our direction. We didn’t hide every time, but we did it often enough that I wondered what Mr. JR saw that I didn’t because all the people looked scary to me. What made the scary people we didn’t avoid so different?

We continued walking until we came to a guard station. Well, while a guard station was what its function was, but it was really just a couple of national guard trucks lined up in front of the entrance to the old flea market. My parents had told me that it used to be something called a drive-in theater, but it hadn’t been one since their parents had dated. It wasn’t a flea market anymore either. That day it had been turned into a homeless encampment. That’s when I realized Mr. JR must’ve been a homeless man too. He was just one with a conscience and had been out helping people that were newly homeless. At the time it didn’t bother me. I was still in a kind of shock. Even after the shock and the new wore off it still didn’t bother me, and never has. A few of the people that know that part of my story think it should but it doesn’t. I think Mr. JR might have been one of those earthbound angels you hear about. He certainly did more than his fair share of good deeds without stopping to take credit for them or waiting to get paid to do them.

For days afterwards I watched Mr. JR shepherd people into the encampment; some of them stayed, some of them didn’t. I watched him bring things back so that everybody could have fresh water, clothes, and a little bit of food at least once or twice a day from the big communal cooking pot we got going. That is a lot more than some people could say. Especially the people that had wound up going into one of those evacuation camps. Those places were okay at first, but they became hell holes … all sorts of sicknesses, people getting jacked up and crazy, and man were they filthy. After a few weeks when people either wouldn’t, or couldn’t, move out of the evacuation centers they started to morph into forced-volunteer camps. Yes, I know “forced volunteer” is an oxymoron but no one in the media really wanted to call them what they were which was forced labor camps; everyone agreed whether they wanted to do it out loud or not that you shouldn’t get something for nothing and they were angry that some people wanted to get more of something for nothing than others. Basically, if you didn’t evacuate the evacuation centers soon enough you worked whether you wanted to or not. The free help to get back on your feet was over … too many people had expected the free help to be a free ride and it really caused a mess. Not everyone of course, but enough people that there was no doubt what many had going on.

But for our camp the authorities acted like it didn’t exist. Homelessness has always been one of those invisible problems unless you are tripping over it right that second and even then it seems like people’s eyes just slide right on passed and ignore it. The homeless in our camp didn’t panhandle or put up signs or anything like that. We survived on our own, on all the debris that continued to be spread all over the overwhelmed city. I came to understand that whoever was in authority was stretched so thin that so long as we weren’t a nail that needed to be hammered down they would leave us alone. I was glad to be left alone, I had a lot to think about.

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 3 (Part 1)

Mr. JR kept an eye on me but he didn’t treat me like a little kid. I wasn’t a little kid, but I have a “baby face” and people are always assuming that I am younger than I am. These days that isn’t true anymore. Last time I got a good look at my face I was looking what Daddy would have called “rode hard and hung up wet.” I used to have to correct people all the time about my age because they were taking a few too many years off; now, if someone tried to guess my age they’d probably be adding a few too many for comfort. But back then I still hadn’t gotten “careworn” and some guys … and a couple of women … would get creepy and want to get touchy-feely and I wasn’t feeling it. Ugh. I wound up sticking close to Mr. JR, or this older bag lady everyone called Proud Mary if he wasn’t around. People knew I was under Mr. JR’s protection, he was particular about me staying within the bounds he set for me, but he didn’t protect me from every little thing. He expected me to not only have commonsense but to actually use it too. And all his people … the ones that he had close to his own camp … were expected to help look after each other. I was pretty good at fixing broken things … clothing, bedding, tools, yada yada … so that’s what I did with a lot of my time. No sooner would I fix the last thing than new broken stuff would show up for me to work on. It kept me busy and gave me a place and a reason for being there.

After that first night of sleeping under the stars … and becoming dinner for the local mosquito population … I figured out a way to use the tarp Mr. JR had found the first day to make a nest for Bam Bam and I. I didn’t have poles or rope to build a tent with … at least not then … and people that did have that sort of thing guarded them jealously. I did however have bunji cords from the tub; I also had the grocery cart. I attached the tarp on the bottom of one side of the cart, tossed the tarp over the top of the cart and all of our belongings in it, and then draped it over us on the other side. After a few adjustments there was enough tarp that we could even lay on it rather than on the ground. Once inside the “Cocoon of Tarp” I sewed it shut with another bunji cord. If the walls of our tarp tent had been hard it would have been like being inside an egg … a green egg since that was the color of the tarp.

The whole encampment was a sea of tarps … mostly blue and silver but with the occasional camouflage or green one like ours tucked here and there. There were also regular tents, tents made out of sheets and blankets, and forts made out of cardboard and broken furniture that had been dragged in from the thousands of trash piles that lay everywhere. There were “roads” and “lanes” in the encampment and just like before, there were roads you didn’t walk by yourself and roads you didn’t walk down at all unless you were looking for trouble to find you.

Every couple of days FEMA or some charity would come by and ask for people to go with them to receive services and get taken care of. I noticed right away that most of the street people … the real ones and not the newly homeless … quietly left the area whenever those types of people showed up, especially if they were with the government. I missed the first two times they came by as they filled up their bus before everyone in line had been processed. The third time they came they brought three buses and I wondered if I shouldn’t take the initiative and go over since I was almost at the end of Bam-Bam’s vitamins. But when I started to go over Proud Mary who tended to talk to herself a lot, and not make much sense while she did it, got in front of me and kind of shushed me and took me back to where I had been sitting and watching.

“Girl, you don’t want to go with them peoples.”

Having learned that homeless people could be strange but by and large weren’t out to hurt you I asked, “Why not?”

“You ever seen or heard from any of them folks they haul off? Do they ever come back for they’s stuff they have to leave behind? And some of it is good stuff too. Do the mens ever come back for their womens? You seen them womens asking whats happened to their chilruns and not gettin’ an answer. No they don’t. You go with them and who know what happens to you and you baby.”

“But …”

“Listen up girl, anyone ever say to you I’m from the govment and I’m here to hep ya then you hustle your bustle some long distance in another direction. Uh huh. Now, if they was local Po-Po’s heping them people I might go have me a look see at what they’re offrin’ but them ain’t Po-Po’s … them guards are federalies. Look around; the camp done emptied of all the Mexi’s and Ricans. They know. They done gone off to find a hidden spot of their own or they’s heading out of the area all together tryings to feed their famblies. They know. I hear that the Ice Ice Babies are emptying the holding tanks and just droppin’ ‘em over the wall without a trial or nuthin’, even the ones that can show they still have their green cards. The only thing they get is told free room and board time is over with and next time they try and come in they might just get sent home in a body bag … if they don’t just pitch ‘em in a pauper’s grave and fergit to says to their relatives where they wound up.”

“Uh …”

“Now you minds your p’s and q’s and stay outta trouble. Aint’ got all day to explain the facts of life to a baby like you. Use your head for something besides a place to put your hat. Mm mm mm. What JR was thinkin’ bringin’ you in I don’t know. You is an accident waitin’ to happen. Ima getting’ tired of running them dirty mens off cause you is a trouble magnet.”

She kept talking to herself as she walked away but she’d stopped making sense again. I thought about what she had said. I wasn’t sure how much was true and how much was the fantasy she lived in most of the time but she was right about one thing, I’d seen some women give up their children to be taken someplace where there were caregivers and food and clean water but every time those women started asking about their kids they didn’t get any answers. I thought even if none of the other stuff was true, that one fact was true enough that I’d step very careful when the government people were around.

A month passed this way while I lived in the encampment without me quite realizing how it happened. Then someone got a bug up their nose and decided it was time to do something about us … or at least look like they were doing something about us. I don’t mean just Bam-Bam and I, I mean the whole camp. I suppose it was inevitable. You can’t have that many crazy, angry, and desperate people in one spot without there eventually being trouble. The parts of camp that JR warned me not to go into kept expanding. Pretty soon the bad places took up all but the little corner that JR tried to keep clean and safe.

One evening, as the fire in the barrel was burning down to embers, a homeless kid runs up to JR. I was preparing to bed down for the night but stopped to take notice. He looked panicked, never a good sign, since usually that kid in particular was feral and fearless and well on his way to being as crazy as some of the other adults in camp. JR jumps to his feet and starts quietly passing the word to pack up and move. Now. There’d been some talk by some people that had come around in hazmat suits the day before but that’s all most people had thought it was … just a scare tactic to make people clean up their space. JR isn’t one of those people that scare easy, but he does believe in being prepared. He said if he ever told me to get out of Dodge that I was to pack up and go as fast as possible as far as possible. And that I was to remember what I’d been learning from the Street People.

The big man put his hand on my shoulder, the last kind touch I felt for a long time, and told me, “Time to get out of Dodge girly. I thought we’d have a little longer but looks like I was wrong. Now remember what I taught you and stay out of sight. The sharks eat minnows like you in a single bite.”

That’s the last time I ever saw JR. Wherever he is I hope it is where he is supposed to be, and he is doing okay. Bam-Bam had gotten used to having no schedule – not that he’d ever had one – and thank goodness didn’t start crying when I put him in his carrier and started pushing the loaded down grocery buggy as fast as I could. It wasn’t easy as it was even fuller and heavier than it had been in the beginning. I’d been collecting stuff “just in case” as I came across it. An extra can of food here, a piece of a roll of toilet paper there, string, rope, metal hangers, lots of sewing stuff, tools … I was a rolling junk yard but all of it has come in handy to have at least once. And a couple of times what I pulled from that buggy has been lifesaving.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 3 (Part 2)

I didn’t have a particular destination in mind at first, all I cared about was getting away from the screaming and gunfire now coming from the camp that I’d left behind. I think the “federalies” had gotten a painful surprise and realized they’d bitten off more than they could chew. Or it could have been the other way around. I wasn’t waiting to find out. I stayed in the shadows as much as possible, but I needed a level surface to push the buggy on. A few times I had to clear a path but that only slowed me down a little bit. Then I saw an extra dark shadow and made a beeline for it to hide for a minute to give myself time to think. It was good that I’d chosen that moment to do so because overheard I heard the sounds of helicopters and they were flying in a pattern with spotlights. I guess they were looking for escapees.

“Psst. Psst. Hurry up girl before they see you … and us.”

I saw a door and just made it in before the helicopter flew right over where I’d been hiding.

“You got some luck you do.”

I recognized the woman. She was a hooker by trade when she had to be which seemed more often than not. JR didn’t like her hanging around while she was “working” but he didn’t run her off too hard so long as she kept it clean while she was near his fire.

“You know what happened?” she asked.

“Not for sure but a kid ran up to JR and then he’s telling me it was time to get out of Dodge. I was on my way out when things started going nuts on the other side of camp. I think the city might have decided they’d had enough of the mess some people were making.”

“Sounds about like we figured.”

The “we” she mentioned turned out to be a couple of other hookers that had taken refuge in the building before me.

One of the other ones said, “Ain’t safe to stay here. Sure ain’t safe if her kid starts making noise.”

“As soon as the helicopters move off a little I’ll leave,” I told them. “I don’t want to get sucked up and hauled off by whoever is doing this. They don’t seem too legit. Proud Mary warned me to stay away from government workers.”

“She might be crazy but she ain’t stupid,” the third hooker said. “And if you ain’t in the market I’d stay away from the riverfront area if I was you. Up the road you want to go right, not left. Retro and his girls work those streets and I heard he was thinking about bringing you on board. Got it?”

“Yes thank you.”

They laughed at me but that was okay. Good manners didn’t cost me anything and it looked like it might have bought me some advice that helped me to stay safe and pick a destination. They could have turned me into a pimp for a finder’s fee. Thirty minutes later the hookers are dozing after downing some booze they’d gotten from someplace … probably in payment for their wares … and I snuck out the back of the building. I finally knew where I was going, the question was if I’d be able to remember how to get there from where I was at. With all the street signs blown down and yet to be replaced, and many of the other known landmarks changed or destroyed, finding my way wasn’t going to be easy. It Is a strange fact of my life that while I might not always know where I am at, I am never lost. At least I knew which way was east and west because I’d marked the setting sun. And if you know east and west you can find north and south. I needed to go northeast. I was going to the half-way house to see if it was still there and if it was if I still had my place in it.

It wasn’t just a place to stay that I was looking for. The halfway house was the best place for me to find out if the lawyer had been looking for me or to begin me looking for the lawyer. I also needed to think about school, trying to get Bam-Bam his vitamins and he was due for a well-baby check-up. Heck, I’d never had the check-up I was supposed to after I’d left the hospital because of the back to back storms.

I was exhausted by the time I got where I was going. The sky was that funny color right before sunrise, but my heart was anything but rising. The halfway house was all boarded up just like it had been when Derek had come to pick me up the day before the hurricane. Trees were down, shrubs dying, and what grass there was hadn’t been mowed in what looked like forever. I wasn’t strong enough to pull the buggy up the stairs on the front entrance, but I knew there was a ramp in the back of the complex near the kitchen.

Everything was scary quiet. It had been that way most of the night, but it hadn’t bothered me until that moment. I don’t know what I’d expected, what I’d hoped for, but what I found wasn’t it. I’d thought there’d be someone there but there wasn’t a single person in sight, not even at the office where the Director and Staff hung out when they weren’t herding us girls around. The whole neighborhood of apartments and condos was deserted. I was in a mandatory evacuation zone but I had figured people would have come back by then. Apparently not, unless they were all asleep or playing mouse just like I planned to.

Around back I used one of my new skills. I had gotten good at breaking and entering boarded over buildings. “Good” meant I was fast and quiet. In no time I had one sheet of plywood off, the door beneath it open, and was able to push the buggy and Bam Bam inside; and, was then able to wedge the wood back in place so it would stay and no one would be the wiser that it had ever been taken off. Broken glass crunched under my feet where the wood had banged against the windows during the hurricane and shattered them. Not every window was broken but there were enough that I knew I wouldn’t be staying here and needed something better than the flip flops I had on if I was going walk in there very much. I’d need to go further into the complex.

Getting inside the building had used up almost all my remaining energy but I knew that I needed to reconnoiter before relaxing enough to rest. Mr. JR had taught me the ins and outs of what he called “situational awareness.” I hid my buggy in the janitor’s closet – a big, walk in, musty smelling space – and put Bam-Bam in a sling that one of the camp women had taught me to make out of an old window drape. I fixed it so he could eat while I walked. It wasn’t what I would call an optimal arrangement for either one of us, but it kept him quiet and it kept my boobs from feeling like bowling balls.

[NOTE: Bam Bam, if you ever do get around to reading this saga I am writing for you I hope you aren’t too embarrassed. You are probably a grown man by now, or on your way to it, and hopefully I’ve taught you the facts of life. Real life is sometimes really real, and I want this story of your beginnings and of our lives to be really real too, not a fairy tale you learn nothing from. That means sometimes I’ll include things that maybe you won’t want to know … but knowing them can make you a better man if you’ll let it. Maybe you’ll have a wife and the two of you will have a kid and things will get done the right way and by knowing some of this stuff you’ll be able to help your wife in ways that I didn’t have help, or at least some of the things she has to go through just because she’s female.]

The first place I hit up was the nurse’s station. I was shocked to find that no one had gotten there ahead of me and I nearly danced disco at finding all the feminine hygiene products right where I remember they were kept. I would have too if I hadn’t been worried about making Bam-Bam cry. It only took a couple of “lessons” on losing out on stuff I’d needed for me to lose my inhibitions on taking things that might not technically belong to me. I just didn’t take anything someone else already had a claim on. I know that is sometimes a fine line … maybe the charity was planning on going into the building and reclaiming stuff, but they hadn’t up to that point, so I ignored the niggle of not niceness that tried to bother me over what I was doing. I didn’t go around collecting jewelry or money like some people did so I hope when the time comes, I’ll be forgiven if I stole stuff without meaning to. I decided in for a penny in for a pound and not only did I take all of the feminine hygiene stuff, but I took the big first aid kit and all of the other stuff that went with it. There was enough Midol to get China through a long bought of PMS. There was also a lot of other OTC meds like cold medicine, eye drops, itch cream, stuff for tummy troubles, and more than I want to list. And pads weren’t the only kind of hygiene products either … shampoos, soap, disposable razors, toothpaste, mouth wash, zit creams and lotions, stuff to stop the stink, you name it. There were also some heavy-duty painkillers in there and some antibiotics, and some meds that some of the girls needed just to keep ‘em human. Just to be on the safe side I also grabbed the Physician’s Desk Reference book and put it in the pile I was making. And then I went to the next most important place … after visiting the bathroom to use the pads that I’d found because it was taking forever for my time of the month to get back to the way it should be after having Bam Bam and even nursing him. There were days that I ouched at both ends and all points in between.

I kept telling myself not to be disappointed because there was no way anything would still be in there but when I got to the kitchen, I almost had to pinch myself to believe what I was seeing. There were the telltale signs of the freezers that had gone off warning me not to open them unless I wanted to smell something that would gag a maggot. I even saw some roaches scurrying around though not as many as there probably should have been because the complex had just had its monthly treatment right before the storm. I even smelled male cat through one of the broken windows … it was strong enough that I worried about the smell getting into our clothes if we stayed here too long. I shrugged and thought what the heck, not to be disappointed but maybe there was something worth salvaging in the cabinets.

I casually flipped open the first cabinet and just stood there looking with my mouth hanging open. The shelves weren’t full, but they weren’t anywhere near empty either. I could have filled the grocery buggy over three times and then three more times after that with what I found but there was no way to do that even once and have room for all of the stuff that Bam Bam and I had already gathered and might need at some point. That was a problem I was just too tired to wrap my head around right then. I grabbed a can of peaches and a carton of fruit chips, found a manual can opener, and then walked up the stairs and down the corridor to the room we’d been assigned.

The window was still intact. The humidity made it hard for me to unlock the door … the wooden door had swelled up a little bit … but once I got in, I sighed in relief. There were no leaks in the ceiling. Bam-Bam’s bassinet sat right where I’d left it. And the bed was even still made though it had that musty smell furniture gets when it is shut up in a house the air conditioner hasn’t been on in for a couple of weeks. I didn’t care. There was a door that I could lock, and we wouldn’t be sleeping on the ground, trying to stay warm. Someone from up north may not have thought it was cold but when it fell below 70 degrees I wanted to sleep somewhere warm. I suspect I still do but I learned after the storm to take what I could get and put any disappointment in the landfill. I decided that this might not be the last stop I had to make but it would do for a day or two until I could figure out my next move.

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 4

Bam-Bam woke me up a couple of times but I was so tired and short on sleep that I was lucky he was still too small to do much more than sleep, eat, and make a messy diaper. As soon as I thought of diapers I finally woke up and smelled him. I felt so bad. I decided then and there we both needed a bath. I’d been cleaning him the best I could but the best I could was still not good enough. First was finding water. I didn’t want to use water that we would need for drinking and cooking, but I couldn’t exactly use untreated water either, then I remembered the solar tanks and prayed they hadn’t gotten gross.

Back when the Environmental Party got in power there were a lot of new regulations and stuff where the country had to start converting over to environmentally friendly doodads and gizmos. Daddy said his first job in college had been with a rehab company that went around retrofitting houses so the stuff would actually work with the systems in place back then. Before people could sell their house, they had to bring it up to current building codes and the codes that were then federally mandated to include environmental watchmacallits. I know I’m not making perfect sense, but it gets old writing “environmentally” this, that, and the other over and over all the time. And it does no good to write it down in acronyms because there are too many of them and what you write starts looking like some space alien type language and might not mean anything to someone trying to read this account in the future. Heck, there are so many that I might forget what they mean so I’ll just continue to do the best I can. Bottom line is for the last couple of decades people have been dealing with the aftermath of all the new regulations and laws that required them to do things a certain way even if the building or machine hadn’t originally been built to use that kind of stuff.

At the half-way house – it used to be an old boarding house that was one of those faux-Victorian type houses built in the early 1900s with too many rooms before that – we had to listen to the maintenance staff complaining all the time about that stuff breaking or not running how it should and being too expensive to fix the right way … and too expensive to use in the first place. One of the things regularly being complained about was the water system. Water was and is a big deal in Florida because of the sink hole problem. The problem with the problem is there is no good solution to it. You can’t stop taking water from the aquifer if you don’t have a desalination plant. Desalination plants have their own environmental impact that people don’t like. You can’t control the weather so if it doesn’t rain enough and then it does rain it can accelerate the sink holes because the rain dissolves the limestone rock the aquifer is in. The solution they came up with? An anachronism called cisterns. Only cisterns have their own problems … like they are breeding grounds for mosquitos and other waterborne nasties, and they can empty a lot faster than they fill back up and that sort of thing.

Well whether it was the best system or not the half-way house used a series of cisterns for non-potable water uses … like the toilets, laundry, and garden … and then after Solar sanitation there was potable water that could be used for everything else. Only the solar system wasn’t always good enough to pass the county water inspectors monthly testing for pathogens and junk like that. What I heard is only so many parts per million were allowed or the entire system had to be turned off, cleaned and sanitized, and then restarted. It was a mess I was glad that I didn’t have to deal with, only time has proven me wrong.

But because all of us residents were required to put in at least fifteen hours per week keeping the half-way house up to specs ... cleaning, maintenance, working on the grounds or in the garden, working in the kitchen … I knew where everything was. The chores were supposed to teach us to have a good work ethic and give us some basic skills, but in reality, it was to keep the cost of operating the house down to a manageable level.

The pipes and stuff for the water system is fenced in … or was fenced in. A lot of the slats for the fence were missing or just lying on the ground. Whole sections of the fence were down but thankfully not on the side facing the outside of the property. With Bam Bam in his sling … clean diaper but not clean body yet … I crept carefully out to see what I could see. Six of the big black barrels had gotten damaged but the other ones were still okay. And the water coming out of them was hot … almost too hot to stand … which told me that at least the thermal part of the system was still working. The UV tank looked like it was still hale and hearty too with no punctures or cracks. I know the solar panels had been taken down prior to the storm so the electrical part wouldn’t be working but two out of the three wasn’t bad.

I drew the water from the UV tank and it was practically steaming; and, carrying it and Bam Bam inside wasn’t easy work. By the time I’d hauled in enough hot water to fill the bathroom sink and a plastic tub I had set in the shower stall in my bathroom I was starving. I decided to let the water cool a bit and went looking for munchies in the cabinets.

To save space, most of the food in the cabinets was the funky dehydrated stuff that got so popular during the Green Revolution. All you had to do was look around and you could tell what kind of political ideology the charity running the halfway house had but I wasn’t concerned with that then and even less so now; they were a means to an end and that’s about all they were to me. I grabbed my favorite, all-in-one, self-heat meal which was pinto beans and rice. It would have been cool to have been able to add meat to it but meat was kept in the locked pantry and I hadn’t gotten into that one yet. I poured some of the super-hot water into one of the thermos bottles and then poured in the package of food. It would need to hydrate for a while so I carried it, a bowl and spoon, Bam-Bam and some of the hygiene stuff with me up to our room and gave us both a good bath.

I realized right away that I would need to take the lining out of Bam Bam’s carrier and put something clean in there or I would just be giving him a bath only to put him in back in filth. I also needed clean clothes which meant going back downstairs again to get into the suitcase I had yet to bring upstairs. After doing battle with irritation over how much work just taking a bath was turning into, I finally got both of us clean. Bam Bam had really enjoyed his bath and after topping off his belly tank – he was turning into an eating and pooping machine – he snuggled into his bassinet and started a power nap that lasted the rest of the night except for a couple of diaper changes and a couple of feedings. That gave me the free time I needed to start doing something really constructive.

While my hair dried (it looked three shades brighter and five pounds lighter after I washed it) I ate my beans and rice. It was nice to be able to eat without having other people watch me like a hawk that was going to steal my bowl if I didn’t go fast enough. I wiped down the bowl, spoon, and thermos and set them on the dresser. After debating about a million times I left Bam Bam in his bassinet and went downstairs to first bring up the suitcase, next bring up the plastic storage tub, and then to bring up all that I’d found in the nurse’s station. Next, I found a couple of laundry baskets and started to bring up my favorites out of the kitchen cabinets. I was going to stop there and start organizing but I knew that I needed to get into the locking pantry to see what else there was.

I had to unscrew the hasp lock to take off the thumbprint lock but no biggie. Once I was into the pantry it was like finding the Promised Land. There were a bunch of shelf stable meals, vacuum packages of freeze dried meats, cartons of shelf stable milk, cans of butter and cheese, boxes of Ezekiel bread, and squeeze tubes of stuff like hummus, pate’, and sandwich spreads, and last there were enough fancy condiments and powdered drinks to make a mini mart deli jealous. So that is where the staff got the good stuff you’d see them eating in the Director’s office. More than a little angry that the Staff got to eat prime foods while us residents subsisted on rabbit food and high carb junk I decided that for a couple of days at least I’d be eating like a queen … and Bam-Bam would get it too because he’d be eating me. But whether I ate it then or later I wasn’t going to be leaving it in that closet. It took me a bunch more trips up and down the stairs before I had it emptied and by then I was hungry again. I rehydrated some chili mac – and boy didn’t I pay for that particular choice since both Bam-Bam and I had gas for the next twenty-four hours – sat down to try and give some thought to how I was going to take care of everything now in my room.

For two days I lived in a kind of limbo. I knew subconsciously that I couldn’t stay in the half-way house, but I wasn’t really ready to think about leaving it consciously either. I cleaned our laundry, organized the stuff that I was pulling together from the kitchen cabinets and staff offices, and just tried not to think about too much other than what was right in front of me. But you can’t live like that forever. The third day there were people walking through the neighborhood. I saw them talking and got close enough to hear them.

Man #1: “This area looks like it is ready to be opened back up.”

Man #2: “Not until the county comes in to check the water and sewer lines.”

Man #1: “What water lines? This area is in the Green Sector.”

Man #2: “Damn. That’s even worse. That means each building is going to have to be recertified by hand.”

Man #1: “I hear ya Dan but it still has to be done. The Task Force is giving Jerry hell. They want to get all of those evacuation centers emptied. We get these hotels and boarding houses opened back up and that should take some of the pressure off. What’s that place that is locked up tighter than a spinster’s diary?”

I heard some tapping on his tablet and Man #2 answered, “Is listed as a halfway house for pregnant and at-risk minors.”

Man #1: “Why isn’t the staff down here getting it opened back up for inspection?”

Man #2: “Looks like … uh oh.”

Man #1: “Okay. That don’t sound good. What’s wrong?”

Man #2: “The Director and several members of the Board of Directors have been reported among the missing. They might be some of the unidentified bodies pulled out of the county building that went when the roof collapsed. But the charity that owns this place has already stated that they intend on coming back in … maybe as early as this weekend … to move resources out so they aren’t lost.”

Man #1: “Nobody is going to be getting in here this weekend. Call ‘em and tell them to be here on Monday and we’ll get the ball rolling. Until then skip this building, they can handle the paperwork headache since they’ve been sitting on their assets while the rest of us work for a living.”

The other guy chuckled and I watched them go to the next building and call some people over to take the board off the door and go inside. It wasn’t a hotel like they’d called it but an apartment building that rented rooms by the week. Either way I was in trouble and I finally admitted I needed to make a plan, and I needed to make it sooner rather than later.

First thing was transportation … by feet and grocery buggy. I pulled out the grocery buggy from the janitor’s closet and went over it to check for repairs. The buggy wasn’t bad though some modifications started coming to mind based on what I’d seen some other Street People had done to theirs. My feet were another story. My tried and true flip flops just weren’t going to work. I wound up finding a pair of boots in one of the other girls’ rooms. I guess they were supposed to look like combat boots … she was really into the neo-revolutionary look. They were surprisingly sturdy which told me she might have gotten them from a military surplus store. I found a can of water-repellent in the maintenance shed and sprayed them several times. Then I stuffed batting out of a pillow into the toe of the boots and put on two pairs of socks. Being used to going barefoot it wasn’t the most comfortable thing I’ve ever worn but it would do, and the bonus was that my feet stayed warm and dry.

Next came what I was going to carry. That was much, much harder. First came food. I lined the buggy with an opaque shower curtain so that you couldn’t tell what was in the basket area. Then I emptied the plastic tub that fit down into basket. Any packaging on the food that could come off did but I would cut off the directions and tape it to the stuff so I knew what was in it and how much water it took to rehydrate it. I’d still be leaving a lot of food behind but all I was doing at that point was filling up with what I could. There have been times that I wished I had brought more but I honestly don’t know how I would have carried it. Next, I found a heavy-duty, plastic footlocker that fit under the buggy. Into that tub I put the hurricane supplies, duct tape, tools, and supplies like that that came out of the original bunch of stuff that Uncle Derek had shoved into the bathroom with me and then added the first aid and hygiene supplies that I’d scavenged from the nurse’s office. My suitcase I used to carefully pack our clothes and pictures and things in. The suitcase topped fifty pounds and was a bear to get up and onto the tub in the big basket area but I figured that would also keep the casual observer out of the tub. I used clothesline cable – the kind with the metal wire in it – to tie down the suitcase so it wouldn’t slide off.

There was still a lot of stuff I wanted to take. Getting creative I managed to fix “saddle bags” onto all four sides of the buggy. The one on the side that the handle was on I put a five-gallon water cube that had a spigot on it. That would be our drinking water. It was a good thing the rest of the buggy was so heavy or that thing would have made the buggy pop a wheelie. On one of the sides I put Bam Bam’s necessities like his diapers and the butt cream to deal with diaper rash that he’d get if I ate something that upset his stomach. On the side opposite that I put the rolled-up tarp and poles and rope that I used to make our tent with. The saddle bag on the front I left empty to hold anything I might find along the way worth keeping. That’s when I realized there was a little bit of empty space here and there around the tub that was in the basket and what I did there was I made meals up of the food that was left and put it into their own individual resealing bags and tucked them into every corner they’d fit. The bottom layer of opaque slower curtain kept anyone being able to see what was inside the buggy.

Over everything I put two more shower curtains to keep the weather out and at night one of them would make a ground cloth for us to sit on. I used some more wire to fix a couple of loops that Bam Bam’s carrier could latch onto and not slide all over the place while I was pushing the buggy. Under the carrier, in the seat area, I put my waterproof jacket – it used to be Momma’s and was a gift to her from Daddy – and the diaper bag where I hid a few things in case we had to abandon ship and make a run for it, and the little candle stove that Proud Mary had showed me how to build out of a piece of a potpourri pot. That reminded me I needed to look all over for candles and matches and lighters … all of which were prohibited items in the halfway house which made them that much more desirable to hide from Staff during inspections. Matches, lighters, and candles weren’t the only things I found when I went looking through all of the less-obvious-to-staff hidey holes. There were a couple of guns that the poor storage hadn’t done any favors to so I avoided them. I found a laser cutter but no battery pack. I found two jury-rigged hot knives and I did take those since they were lighter and less likely to get me in trouble since it could pass as a personal apprenticeship tool. And then I found a couple of pocketknives and homemade shivs that I took. There were other things, but I had no desire for any of the drugs or illegal VR discs or things like that.

Last thing I did was switch from a purse to a backpack that I used to take to school. This is what held the most important stuff like our ID papers and our daily necessities so I wouldn’t have to unpack everything that I’d just so carefully packed except every once in a while.

Pushing the buggy was not easy but I figured the food would go over time and lighten the load. The idea of trying to find replacements for the food to keep us from starving like some of the people in the camp had looked like made my guts watery so I decided to table thinking about it for another time. Not smart but mentally necessary if I wasn’t going to have a break down.

There was still more food that had to be left behind because there was no way for me to carry it no matter how I arranged things. I stuffed a few more odds and ends in the backpack, shoved some of the lightest weight items in the pocket of the all of my jacket pockets, crammed a few more things in various nooks and crannies, and even got some of the baby dehydrated food for pureeing in the diaper bag but then I was absolutely topped out. In hindsight I would come to regret that but what is that old saying? Hindsight is 20/20. I should have found some way. I should have looked further down the road. I should have done a lot of things. But I didn’t and luckily Bam Bam and I lived to tell the tale, but man was it close a couple of times.

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 5 (Part 1)

I decided to stay through Sunday. That was still two days away. I’ll be honest, it wasn’t for any other reason than I still hadn’t figured out where I was going. I had no one. The last relatives I could half-way lay claim to were either in the “no way in heck” category or they were recently deceased. The phone system in this area of the state was still non-existent except for those in emergency services and even a lot of those people only had one satellite phone to an entire work crew. Even if I could have found a working phone who would I have called?

The two days did give me time to find a few more odds and ends … some sewing kits, a couple of extra combs, brushes, and hair bobs, some lice treatment kits which wound up being worth the hassle of finding a way to bring them along, bleach and laundry tablets (also valuable). I decided to be safe rather than sorry and started using the lice preventive oil in my hair right away. Bam Bam was still too young for it so I would need to be as careful as possible. I gave myself a last manicure and pedicure and then realized I needed to add a couple of things to my hygiene kit like tweezers, nail clippers, pumice stones, foot powder, and the like. I put a big bottle of hand sanitizer in the seat near Bam Bam’s carrier. The one thing that I might be a thief about is that I took something from the Director’s office … one of the then-new Ubernet Cubes and the solar charger that went with it. There was no way to get on the WorldNet or The Cloud, but the thing already had quite a library of both books and music on its 5 petabyte crystal memory drive. Most of what was on there was just vintage and antique stuff, but it also had expansion slots and had a peripheral piece of hardware that would run the microdot-drives that I had the family pics and legal docs stored on. It all came in one of those new-design traveling shield crates that protect against the passive and active bursts of EMP that the stupid terrorists had started to use to disrupt everyone’s daily life. The piece de resistance was the floppy keyboard and screen for turning the cube into a mini-tablet; both were film thin and rolled up into a case that was the size of a Mari-cig.

So yeah, maybe I did kinda steal the Ubernet Cube and I suppose I will have to pay for it at some point, but I don’t even know who to try and make a deal with over it. Doesn’t make what I did right, and it still bothers me. I guess that is why I am confessing it here. But I guess I’m also asking in a way not to be judged for what I did because I have used it for personal improvement rather than just playing around. I guess I’ll have to see what the future holds.

I was still wimbling around, trying to decide just when to leave when I saw a crew come into the area on Sunday to clear trees down across the road; I finally got up the courage to head out. And maybe that push was the physical and mental motivation I needed to finally figure out my next place to go. The lawyer’s office. I knew the address and I’d even been there quite a few times. It was just going to be difficult to find my way there because it was all the way out in Plant City and I was near downtown Tampa. Ugh. I had no idea just how long that walk was going to take me and how unfriendly people were going to be along the way.

I am not going to recount every moment of that trek, living through it the first time around was more than enough. I will say that it took me a week to walk what once would have taken someone roughly forty minutes to drive, even with the mandatory fuel-saving, slow-downs during peak driving times by the autocar regulators. But there weren’t any autocars on the roads. It was for the same reason that the autocars can’t go off-roading without human intervention; the roads are too irregular and tore up. If the road isn’t level it farkles around with the gizmo that keeps the autocar balanced … they call it equipoise or something stupid like that. Or maybe I’m prejudiced. I failed my licensing test twice and all because I took control from the autopilot too many times. They say I have control issues and need to stop being so archaic and learn to trust the autocar navigation system. Trust issues. Who me? Really, who would have thought.

A lot of people have the opposite trouble from me and can’t drive non-autos anymore. Plus, the movers with non-auto options require a special license and training where you have to be able to drive non-auto pilot for at least ten miles at a time. Well whoever has the issues, there were big trucks on the road, most of them government though I saw some people transporters that were all heading north as well … and they were all being driven by people that looked way more stressed out than is healthy to be behind the wheel of something that big.

It was actually the transporters that kept me out of trouble. Seriously. See I kept getting stopped when I was leaving Tampa. The first cop that stopped me made the assumption that I was trying to walk to a transport hub. He let me off with a warning and even gave me directions. I just kept using that excuse every time I got stopped after that … which was way too often in my opinion.

“Yes Sir. I’m looking for a transport hub that isn’t booked out. I’m hoping that I can get a ticket north to my family.”

Worked like a charm every time. They were obligated to stop and ask but actually doing something about me would have caused them extra work. By me saying that I already had a plan in place and was taking action to accomplish it they could leave off with just a warning … and the assumption that if my plan didn’t work I was going to be someone else’s problem rather than theirs.

The other thing that caused me problems was the curfew. Dusk to dawn, no exceptions. Lucky for me there were enough places I could hide out in after the sun went down. But I had to be up and ready to move at first light or someone was going to roust me. Having that happen once was once too often. The man came at me with a baseball bat until he heard Bam-Bam and then he was angry at being embarrassed at threatening someone with a baby, I suppose, and tried to run me off even faster. That was only the second time a cop stopped me and I had the excuse ready.

“No Sir but I’ve heard the rules are really strict. No moving around during the curfew. The last shelter I came to people were saying the shelter was full. I thought I’d be able to make it to the next one but there was a big tree down on the road and I had to go all the way around and then it got dark. I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t want to get in trouble by breaking the rules.”

I’m not sure if the cop bought that story or not but it was enough that he didn’t actually have to do anything about me since I told him I was trying to make it to a transportation hub. The next night I was more careful about where I hid but there was other trouble. I had things thrown at me and some of that crap even landed and hurt. This one crazy girl threw a stick and it hit Bam Bam’s carrier and made him scream. Before I even realized what I was doing I picked the stick up and threw it at her and it caught her in the mouth. Thing is she didn’t get any support from the crew she was traveling with after they realized she’d hit a baby. A kid jogged up to me a few minutes later and asked that I not call down the cops.

“This isn’t cops business. This is private business. And it will stay private so long as no one messes with my baby.”

“Yeah, got it. Shelly is off her meds is all. She took the last pill yesterday and she’s started to hear the voices again.”

Feeling sympathetic whether I wanted to or not I said, “Try the College Hill Clinic. They were open two weeks ago and I heard they were going to set up a secondary center at the old Villa Madonna school.”

“You think?”

“Like I said, I heard; I haven’t been there myself. But the people I heard it from said they had just come from there.”

At that he nodded and jogged off to relay the information to his friends or whatever they were to each other. There was other crap like that that happened, but you learn to stand up for yourself and protect what is yours to protect or you get hurt in bad ways. I wasn’t against getting the police involved, I just wanted to avoid having that kind of attention turned on me.

This went on for a week. Finally, I’m nearing a real transportation hub but I didn’t have to worry about the cops, or anyone else for that matter, trying to say anything. The transportation authorities were telling everyone that tickets were all sold out but that there might be another tube that had tickets down the line. Yep. I don’t think so, though a lot of people really wanted to believe it bad enough that they hurried to get down the road. Out of all of that I did finally find a way to walk and not draw attention or get into trouble. The transportation authority had closed off a whole lane all the way up the Interstate and restricted its use to pedestrians.

Realistically there was no way the transportation hubs were going to be able to move all of the people that wanted to move in the next few months much less before curfew hit each day; but, they said so long as you were in line to get to the next hub they wouldn’t force you to find shelter though they recommended it. But shelter where? The shelters were either closing down or were full beyond capacity. Hillsborough County hadn’t been the only county devastated by the hurricane. Almost every county on the Gulf Coast had taken a major hit, interior counties were flooded … with water and evacuees … and then as the hurricane turned inland it continued wreaking havoc. By word of mouth I heard the monster storm was still a Category 1 when it exited the other side of the state around Jacksonville, briefly jumped back up to a Cat 3, and then died in the colder waters of the Atlantic though it took almost a week and messed up the entire Eastern Seaboard more than a little before finally dissipating and being replaced on everyone’s radar with the next Tropical Depression that was predicted to become a named storm.

The traffic lane of pedestrians was very crowded, in some places very narrow, and moved very slow. It took another two days to get to a place that I could “pull off” and enter Plant City and I didn’t get to do that until I was able to pass the security gate. I had a business card and my papers that I was able to prove I had legitimate business tracking down the lawyer. They let me through and gave me a pass to carry with me. But just like so many other times I could only get so far.

People gave me suspicious looks as I pushed the buggy down the road of expensive looking storefront business offices. They really gave me a look as I clumsily pushed the buggy into the reception area of one of the businesses.

“Excuse me.”

The woman at the desk said, “You’ll have to take that back outside. There aren’t any public restrooms here.”

“I’m not here for a bathroom. I’m here to see Mr. Blanton.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Blanton isn’t in.”

“Then can you please tell me when he will be in?”

“I’m sorry you’ll have to leave your name and contact information and I’ll get back with you but I have to warn you, we aren’t taking new clients at this time.”

Trying not to show how frustrated I felt I responded, “I’m not a new client, I’m already a client. And you aren’t Ms. Clarendon, the regular lady that sits there or you would know that. So, if Mr. Blanton isn’t around, is Ms. Clarendon?”

She finally turned to look me square in the face. “What did you say your name was again?”

“I didn’t but it is Doe McCormick. Mr. Blanton is the brother of my guardian ad litem. I just need to … I don’t know … get a message to them or something. I need to at least let them know I wasn’t washed away or something.”

That’s when Bam-Bam pipes up and I pick him up.

“Oh my Lord … oh … my … Lord! Clarey!! Clarey!!”

A woman comes running out and I recognize Ms. Clarendon’s daughter. She busts down in tears and they aren’t thankful ones either.

She’s got the traditional black armband on, the same kind I wore for a year after Momma died, and I figured it out. “Um … your mom?”

She nodded her head and I want to find a chair real fast because if I don’t sit down I’m starting to think I’m gonna fall down. Ms. Clarendon had been a very nice lady, the kind my parents would have liked.

“Your uncle?” I asked just as quietly.

She shrugged. “He took my grandmother and a couple of the older relatives to Orlando and … and I haven’t heard anything from any of them since. But, but he’d want us to keep things going here at the practice until we know for sure. The courts are still closed except for emergency motions anyway so about all we are doing is babysitting the files. But oh my god, we saw you on the news. Where have you been?! I searched all of the evacuation centers; you were never on any roster.”

“Can … can I sit down?” I asked shakily.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 5 (Part 2)

Not only did they insist on me sitting down they gave me some soup and crackers and made a real fuss over Bam-Bam as I told them what had happened and where I had been. They looked at my city pass and then went next door, some type of communication center, and got it extended to a 72-hour pass.

“Doe, that’s the best I can do. The only reason they did that is because of the baby. They aren’t allowing non-residents to stay absolutely any longer than that unless they are specifically interred at an evacuation camp and … and you don’t want to do that.”

“Okay, not that I don’t believe you but why don’t I want to go to one of them evacuation camps?” I had already heard things by then but it is better to gather as much information as you can before you make your own decision on something.

She struggled to put on her lawyer face but then it kinda just slid back off and she slumped in her chair. There is no other way to describe it than it looked like some of her bones decided to take a holiday because they just didn’t have enough strength to hold up her upright anymore. My bones weren’t exactly feeling too good after she explained what she knew.

“Due process has been suspended and both the best and worst-case scenario is that you’ll lose custody of Blake. They’ll do it with the best of intentions but that will still be what happens. In their eyes it will be an issue that you can’t care for Blake and work at the same time and the evacuation centers are now requiring a minimum of 32 hours of work for every week you plan to stay … and work comes before you are guaranteed your space and you also have to catch up any hours you are in arrears. There are even work requirements for those between the ages of thirteen and seventeen. If you are under sixteen you are either in school full time or you are working full time in some capacity. The ten to sixteen age group has a minimum of fifteen hours a week they must commit to in addition to their schoolwork. Three to nine years must maintain a certain GPA or in addition to normal school hours they are required to participate in tutoring classes. For any child under three … you either trade off with the adults in your household to provide full time care or your child will be removed from your custody. Kids are not allowed to babysit younger siblings unless they are sixteen or older and that is not counted towards their own work requirements. Whatever kind of domicile is provided … tent, apartment, refugee pod … must meet established standards of cleanliness. And the rules are strictly enforced with daily inspections. First strike is a warning and penalties that everyone in the domicile must pay. Second strike is a higher penalty and loss of privileges and station. Third strike you are out … and you lose custody of your minor dependents without recourse.”

It still surprises people that I’m not as stupid as I’ve been labeled. “Without recourse, huh. In other words, for the first month I’d have to work over 40 hours per week just to catch up and not owe them any hours but there are probably penalties that would also need to be paid because I start out in arrears, and the penalties don’t just add up they compound. I’d actually never be able to dig myself out of whatever hole they try and put me in. They set the system up so that you are nearly guaranteed to fail. They want everyone so tired and so indebted that there isn’t time or energy to think of ways to get around the system much less the energy to fight back or riot. Especially the younger ones that could be some of the biggest troublemakers.”

Clarey became very serious. “Uncle Mac always said you had a lot more going on than people gave you credit for.”

I shrugged off the fact that she’d underestimated me. She hadn’t meant to, she just didn’t know me very well. “It isn’t rocket science. There is historical precedence in how companies like the railroad and coal mines worked before the unions came in. But this is the government we are talking about.”

“Quasi-government.”

That I didn’t understand. “Huh?”

“The government has partially privatized the evacuation centers as a way to rebalance after the budget hits the state has taken from all of these late season storms. The federal government has already done the same thing out in California and the Northwest last year after the fires and subsequent crop failures to those acts of terrorism on those reservoirs. And you probably know about that system they have in the Northeast after the terrorist bomb that went off at the old UN building. From what I hear, around here it will only be on a contract basis of six months to start with, but it goes hand and glove with the privatization the Environmental Party started of some of the entitlement and financial assistance programs. The way it has been discussed in a few meetings I’ve been privy to is that at the end of six months the only people who should be left in the evacuation centers are the ones unable or unwilling to find some alternative living conditions and they are the hard-to-serve population that people want to keep off the street to begin with so there won’t be much political backlash if the contract is extended beyond six months.”

After a few moments of thinking it over I said, “I guess the half-way house is no longer an option either.”

“No Doe, I’m sorry it isn’t. There are no good options here in the state at the moment.”

Catching her meaning I asked, “What about outside of the state?”

The other lady took over the conversation. “Mr. Blanton had started pulling together things in preparation of you turning eighteen, just in case you didn’t get into your school of choice.”

“You don’t think I could have?” I asked a little defensively.

“It isn’t a matter of what we think but whether you’d be able to manage to do it financially and still be able to take care of Blake. “

“I know it wasn’t going to be easy but I was working on things.”

“And so was Mr. Blanton … just in case. Now we might be able to use this information to get you to a new living arrangement, but it is going to require finding a way to get you up to Georgia. And right now, there is simply no easy way to pull that off.”

“I made it this far. I’ll do what I have to. I’ll walk.”

“Doe, you admitted that it took you a week to walk from downtown to our office. Do you have any idea how far you have to go to get to Dalton, GA.?”

“I kinda know where that is. Mom used to have a cousin that lived near there. I know it is kinda far away but it isn’t the backside of Neptune. About five hundred miles …”

“Try closer to six hundred.”

“Okay. Six hundred. At a minimum of ten miles per day … ouch … that’s two months. Okay so maybe walking is out.” I started adding up the cash I had saved and then asked, “I might be able to swing our tickets on a hub tube for part of the trip but you still haven’t explained what is in Dalton that makes it so appealing.”

Clarey picked the thread of conversation back up. “No one said it is appealing … it is however the only real option we can offer.”

“Er … and that is?”

After a moment she finally answered, “There is a farm, a sort of training camp slash life skills facility. They work with at-risk young adults, many of whom have few other options. Some are single parents, some are assigned there to complete a diversion program to keep them out of jail, some are young vets that need a hand to stabilize their lives now that they are out of the military and need employable skills in the civilian sector … the population is very diverse with the only common denominator being that the age ranges from seventeen to twenty-five. You complete the training and you get a certificate and guaranteed job placement. In your case you can also opt to get a GED which would replace your last year in high school.”

I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “What kind of training and what kind of guaranteed job?”

“The training is mostly in agri-business though there are a couple of other options. The work … depends. Some of the job placements are overseas helping third world countries to rebuild their infrastructure after a disaster of some type. Some of the jobs are stateside working in agri-start ups. You get a stipend and per diem and a contract to work anywhere from one to four years. The thing is you don’t get to pick … by being part of the program you agree to whatever situation they find for you at the end of the training.”

More than a little suspicious I said, “That sounds like … like being an indentured apprentice. I thought that had been outlawed with the new employment laws.”

She sighed as I’d surprised them again. I don’t know if it was because they decided that I was too smart for my own good or whether it was because I was seeing something they’d hoped I would miss. Either option left me feeling even more uncomfortable than I already had been. Finally she answered, “In some respects it is; however, unlike in the indentures that were outlawed a student gets paid and won’t be charged room and board during your training, assuming you can cut it. There are some very strict rules such as no fraternization, being there for every training hour, no unionization, abiding by the dress codes, must pass every spot check, no mouthing off to the staff and keeping a good attitude, and that sort of thing.”

Shrugging I told her, “If I could abide by the rules at the half-way house and keep my mouth shut when I didn’t agree with their particular worldview, this job training and placement program shouldn’t be that difficult. But are you sure they won’t try and take my kid just like in the evacuation centers?”

“No. That’s the point of the program for some of the trainees. You will have to make arrangements with the on-site childcare center if you wind up in a training program that just doesn’t make having a child with you appropriate but since you are nursing they’ll probably make allowances … at least so long as you keep it up; but again, it is a bit like what you would have been faced with the remainder of your time at the half-way house. Now before we discuss this any further I need to know if you are willing to accept the terms.”

Looking at her a moment I realized she was crediting me with more sense than perhaps even her mother would have.

“Let me make sure I understand. I need some way to get from here to Dalton, GA but once I am there, I have a place at this training facility … farm … whatever. It’s a sure thing that I get in, not just get there and hope for the best. Then, if I complete the training with good grades I am guaranteed a job, it just might not be a job in a place of my preference but I have to take it because it goes along with the contract I sign to get into the training program at the start.” At her nod I asked, “Two things. How long is the training and do they help with transportation costs to get to the guaranteed job or will I need to save for it?”

“Good questions,” she said approvingly. I suppose it proved to her I was really thinking and not just playing at it. “The training is twelve to eighteen months depending on which track you wind up being put into. According to communiques that we’ve had, transportation to the new job is the responsibility of the new employer … usually if the employer doesn’t pick a trainee up from the Farm then they receive a one-way ticket on mass transit. Placements come as part of the graduation ceremony and it is my understanding that many graduates go to work in pairs or crews, single positions are not the norm.”

I thought about it then nodded. “Twelve to eighteen months is pretty much what I was looking at in the accelerated business programs on my list.” At her surprise I explained, “We got reminded on nearly a daily basis that we had until we were 18 to get our act together, that on our birthday we were walking out that door, with a police escort if necessary. I have Bam-Bam to think of. This may not be my plan but it is a plan, and so long as it goes the way you say it is supposed to I can use it.”

“Use it?”

“Yes ma’am. In twelve months I’ll still be 18. Even if it is eighteen months, I’ll be just shy of nineteen. Even if my contract is four years beyond that I’ll be twenty-three at the most. If I save as much as I can I might still be able to go to college at that point. Even if I can’t afford college, I can train for something else, go back for a business certificate, something. And that’s assuming I don’t make something from the training I’m getting for free. Either way, I’ve got a way to keep Bam-Bam fed, get him clothes, and other stuff he needs.”

“Hmm. So you are willing to do this?”

“Yes. If you can prove I have a place once I get there and that Bam-Bam is welcome.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 6 (Part 1)

It was all too easy. I don’t mean that in a bad way. Just looking back compared to what came before and what came after getting a ride to Dalton, GA and then what came after that. The “after that” is another part of the story; I need to keep things properly in the timeline.

The lawyers got working on getting papers to secure my slot at The Farm. Yep, that’s what it was called … The Farm. But communication was slow. Or should I say, it isn’t that communication was slow so much as getting it all pulled together was slow because of the type of communication. A verbal confirmation just wasn’t going to cut it, there had to be papers, properly notarized, in order to procure transportation. It took beyond my 72-hour Pass. I wound up having to sleep outside the city gate just like beggars did in ancient history days. I felt ostracized about the same way too as people would cross way out of the way just to avoid possibly have to interact with any of us out there. And, when they did have to pass by, they avoided eye contact, preferring to pretend they didn’t even see us.

I was lucky. I only had to endure a few days of that. Instead of waiting for the paperwork to come by communique packet I found myself being “rescued.”

“Excuse me but are you Doe McCormick?”

I turned to look at who was asking and saw a National Guardsman standing there.

“Uh … yes I am. Sir.”

The man smiled and said, “Don’t need to Sir me. But there’s a woman looking for you.”

Turns out the lawyer had come looking herself. “Oh thank goodness. You need to come right now. And bring your stuff. The transport is ready to go.”

“Transport?”

“Yes. Now keep this packet of papers with you. Your interstate pass is in there also.”

Before I could even draw breath for a question I was introduced to Mr. Cummings and I was pushing my cart up the incline ramp into the back of a large people mover. I was told to use something to block the wheels on the cart and to put Bam-Bam into the car seat.

“His carrier doubles as a car seat if there is a belt I can use.”

There was a woman with a clip-pad and she looked relieved. “Good. We’ll use this one then for the next kid that doesn’t have one, assuming they show up at the pick-up point.”

I barely had time to wave good-bye to my latest guardian angels before the people mover started and was given a clear lane to use. The woman looked back at me from her seat and said, “Everyone here has heard the spiel. I’ll give it again …” There was a few groans. “… as soon as we pick up the next bunch. That will fill us up and we’ll head back to The Farm.”

“Yes ma’am.”

That got me a small, approving smile and nod.

I heard a very quiet, “Suck up.”

Just as quietly I told the girl in the seat in front of me, “Hi. My name is Doe. My kid is Bam-Bam. What’s your name?”

She called me a nasty name for girls – more than a little rude for not knowing me – and I hoped that not everyone would have the same attitude. I hadn’t been sucking up to the woman. To me it was just a matter of smoothing my way. When you have a kid you need to start thinking like that. You don’t want to sell your soul or compromise your principles, but good manners don’t cost and can actually build credit that you might need at some point.

I tried to figure out what direction we were going and it looked like we were heading back towards Tampa except what we actually did was bypass it and head southwest to Ruskin. There we picked up three shell-shocked kids … two boys and a girl about my age though the boys looked older because they were sporting facial hair. Their names were Jorge, Jamie, and Julia … not Julia with a “J” but Hoo-lia like pronounced in Spanish. And that’s what they were. All three were cousins, surname Perez, the only survivors in their family. How they got picked for The Farm I never found out. I never asked though, but I don’t think they would have answered me even had I asked. The girl that had called me a suck up got to them and they aligned against me.

That sounds so stupid but that’s exactly what happened. What they didn’t know then … but eventually it came out after a few months … is that I speak fluent Spanish. I also speak fluent French, Russian, and Mandarin. I also speak some Arabic and Hindi. The reason why is because my parents were of the generation that believed that learning foreign languages at a young age made you smarter; the idea was also to help me learn to speak without a lisp. I don’t know if it made me smarter or not, but it was fun and has come in handy a few times. I’ll probably forget it if I don’t use it – I’m already having trouble with the Arabic and Hindi since I use them the least of the others.

[Bam-Bam, my knowledge of languages comes into things later so I thought I’d mention it now so it isn’t such a shock or contrived. This story isn’t a fairy tale but our real story but I don’t know if by the time you read this that I’ll be able to still understand other languages. If you don’t use it you lose it as the old saying goes. I just hope when you read this you’ll know your Momma has some smarts … or at least had them at one point in her life.]

As soon as the three of them got settled the lady got back up and hung onto a hand strap as the people mover turned to the east and got back in traffic and started moving.

“Okay, last time I have to do this. We now have our full complement of new trainees. My name is Marjorie Madison … you’ll call me Chief Madison. ‘Chief’ is our title for members of the upper staff that act as direct supervisors to you trainees. Consider yourselves lucky; each of you are one of two-dozen trainees we are taking on from Florida due to the hurricane and its aftermath. You are being taken on for humanitarian purposes, but you are required to tow the line in the exact same way as our other trainees. You will also participate in weekly counseling sessions. Everyone does it, no excuses. Everyone should have received a packet before boarding. Take them out … I’ve been warning the others that we are going to go over the packet and since we are all on board it is time.”

Chief Madison walked up and down the aisle as she covered each section of the packet page by page. We were in the middle of it when Bam-Bam decides he’s hungry. I’d gotten used to nursing him and doing other things at the same time and he’d gotten used to tolerating it. I’d even gotten a good one-handed technique going by then. I got a couple of weird looks, but no one said anything, especially not after Chief Madison made a pass by and patted me on the shoulder. It isn’t like I was hanging out in the open like a Renaissance “Madonna and child” painting. And when he needed a quick change, I did that as well while answering the Chief’s questions when it was my turn to introduce myself.

“Doe McCormick. I started out in foster care so I’m not really sure what my ethnic background is or if it even matters. I was adopted when I was two. I was orphaned before the storm and was living in an Environmental Party-funded half-way house prior to evacuation. I’ve been on my own since the storm and am looking for a way to get enough skills to provide for Bam-Bam … uh, his legal name is Blake … and make a way for us to live so we aren’t dependent on charity. I guess the old timey phrase for it is I’m looking for a hand up, not a hand out.”

“How old is … er … Bam-Bam.”

“Just shy of two months.”

She jumped a little and looked at her clip-pad and taped something on it. “Your first stop when we get to The Farm is the Infirmary. Does the baby have any vaccinations?”

“I have his ID card. You can run the chip and it will tell you all of that. My MMR is up- to-date and I also got my tetanus booster and a couple of other ones before leaving the hospital. The half-way house required it.”

She asked for both ID cards and I sweated it until she returned them. They took mine at the hospital and pretty much held it hostage until the half-way house matron came to get me. They didn’t even give it back to me but gave it to her and she was a nasty ol’ hag that made a big deal out of deciding whether she’d turn the two cards over to me or give them to the Director. Ugh. You don’t have your ID card and you can be in all kinds of trouble.

From me she went on to the next person … that’s when I learned Jorge, Jamie, and Julia’s story. Miss Attitude’s name was Mari Johnson … as in Marigold Johnson. When I was born it was fashionable to prove how “green” you were by naming your kid after flowers, trees, and silly stuff like that. That’s how I knew that Mari and I were close in age and what politics her family probably had.

Almost everyone else on the people mover was over twenty and a couple of the roughest looking females were twenty-four. They had gang tats and short, spiky hair cuts. But just like I learned with Street People, looks didn’t always dictate who the person was underneath.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 6 (Part 2)

After introductions were made Chief Madison continued. “So that’s the rules. Know them. Follow them. The consequences if you don’t is immediate eviction from The Farm. Depending on the severity of your infraction or what your legal history is, you could also be on your way to a penal colony so take what I’m saying very seriously. Each of you will be evaluated during a 60-day probationary period.”

Mari snapped, “Probationary period? No one told me about no damn probationary period. That ain’t f-ing right.”

The Chief made a point of looking at her clip-pad and then tapping something on it once. When she looked up she said, “You are allowed one infraction during your probationary period. Miss Johnson just used hers. At the end of your probation you will be put into a specific training program. It will be based in part on skills tests, academic abilities, and behavior. All three of those are equally as relevant to your stay on The Farm. For example, you can be university-level smart but if you can’t perform as needed and you act like a butthead you will be failed and transferred out. Same for being able to follow all the rules and get along with staff and your fellow trainees; however, if you lack commonsense or can’t do the necessary math you will fail just as surely. If you feel you are lacking in an academic area there will be tutoring that you can avail yourself of. Attitude is something only you can control. We don’t bother with imposed disciplinary actions; The Farm is one strike and you are out. The goal of our program is to turn out well-rounded and balanced, employable individuals. It is your choice whether you take advantage of this opportunity or not.”

Mr. Cummings the driver said something to the Chief and she nodded. “Okay, break time. We are going to pull in and you have exactly 15 minutes to take care of any bodily needs. Please use this time to discard any refuse in the appropriate receptacle. Once back on the mover we’ll have a box meal for each of you. We are going to pull out on time … you aren’t on the mover, you get left behind. Miss McCormick, a moment please.”

My first thought was “uh oh.”

After everyone had left the mover I said, “Yes Chief?”

She gave me a grin. “Yeah, you’ve been in a program already. I understand they were strict.”

“Yes ma’am but no stricter than my parents were, the only difference as far as I could tell is that my parents credited me with a willingness to follow their rules, the half-way house always treated us like we were half a breath away from forgetting the rules or breaking them on purpose and just hadn’t been caught at it yet. Look, I do have one question.”

She lifted her brows but nodded.

“The lawyers that got me a place at … er … The Farm told me that keeping my baby was not a problem. I just want to know that what they consider ‘not a problem’ jives with what you consider ‘not a problem.’”

She gave a brisk nod. “Practical. Personally, to me that shows you are already head and shoulders above some new incoming trainees. As far as keeping your child, we aren’t in the business of separating families. In fact, our goal is the opposite. Where the problem is going to come in is whether you can financially afford what your child is going to need. Hauling in diapers and formula isn’t cheap.”

“I don’t need either. Bam-Bam doesn’t have a problem nursing and I switched to cloth nappies when the disposable ones ran out. For me that means laundry but I have a few boxes of liners to make the messy diapers less of a problem. He still has room to grow in the clothes I have for him but nothing that will last another twelve to eighteen months, so I might need a day pass to find a thrift store or some way to find something to make over for him.”

“We have facilities on site, and you can spend stipend credits there. The problem, and one that everyone will likely need to address, is that the weather in Dalton is different from what you would have experienced had you remained in central and south Florida. Do you have a warm coat?”

That’s when I ran face first into the first thing I hadn’t given any thought to.

“That’s what I suspected,” she said after getting a look at my face. “Are those sandals the only shoes you have?”

“No ma’am. I have two other pairs and one of them is a pair of work boots.”

That surprised her but she nodded. “Good but I’ll still let Human Resources look them over before crossing them off your clothing list. We were told to expect you kids to come with next to nothing so we are prepared but my concern is for the baby. That needs to be one of your first priorities. We don’t have the medical facilities to deal with an at-risk infant of his age.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes. At night we are together, during the day he is swaddled in his carrier unless I am carrying him in a sling. He makes less of a fuss in his sling. I can sew but doing it by hand will take longer. Faster to make something over but it depends on what I have to work with.”

“You can sew?”

“Sew, crochet, knit, embroidery, quilt … it is how I made the majority of the bill money after I became a Ward of the State. I got my online business license at sixteen with the help of my guardian ad litem. I would buy stuff at yard sales and thrift stores … repair them, make them over, dress them up, basic re-fashions … and then resale. My parents taught me to be a make-do person.”

“Your adoptive parents.”

Trying not to be defensive I responded, “They were my parents. I don’t know who my womb donor was or the sperm donor either. I got made, got thrown away, then put in foster care when I survived. Adopted at two. Lost both my parents by the time I was fourteen … one work related, one cancer. Went to live with a sorta kinda family member and the situation proved toxic. I was removed, then went to the half-way house.”

“Very brief and to the point. But to advise you, the Staff all know your story so keep the chip to a minimum.

“Uh … didn’t mean to come off that way I just … it is just easier for people to swallow like that rather than draw the whole sob story out like I’m looking for pity or whatever. I’ve decided to be a realist. My beginnings sucked. I could have died but I didn’t. They could have found the biological implements of my beginnings but they didn’t. On the other hand, I didn’t have to stay in foster care as long as some kids … I was adopted by great people. I could be angry that they aren’t here but I’m not, at least not anymore. They didn’t mean to die and leave me alone, they weren’t being reckless or anything like that. They were just doing their job and living the best they could. Mom didn’t ask to get cancer, it just happened. Sucks for me but I could have totally missed out and they taught me good lessons to live by. The stuff with Bam-Bam’s beginnings … well that wasn’t my fault or Bam-Bam’s; it sucked, it’s over, time to move on so Bam-Bam can have as good a life as my parents gave me. I’ve had help along the way so that I could stay strong and keep moving. Some people don’t get that so I’m grateful. And I know that someplace I need to pay it forward, and sooner rather than later. I’m okay with that. I know I’m lucky to get this shot at some training. There’s nothing left for me in Florida. Everything I have is in that grocery cart that is strapped down in the cargo area. Some is left over from my other life but most of it is from the life I have now.”

She was taking me seriously which is not something you always get in this life. “Practical and prosaic. What are your plans from here Miss McCormick?”

She’d listened to me so I was as honest as I could be. “I want to make the most of … look Chief Madison, I know the difference between a need and a want. I want to provide for Bam-Bam and not by living the rest of our lives on the roster of some charity or other. What I need is a way to do that. The people that gave me a hand up after … after I was removed from my step-grandmother’s home told me The Farm is a way to get there. What I plan is to take advantage of whatever this training program is and then use it to get to the next place. Where that next place is I don’t know but it is coming, it is up to me to be prepared for it.”

She nodded slowly. “We were told that your records didn’t completely explain you or your situation. That appears to be true. In addition, you sound level headed and realistic; a good combination under any circumstances, but especially so in your situation. That will help.” Looking out and not seeing any of the others come back yet she said, “Someone read over my shoulder and blurted out that you are a cop’s kid. That may present some challenges for you.”

I shrugged. “Been there already and I know how to deal. I’m not ashamed of Dad; I’m actually proud of him. But, like he explained to me when I was little, sometimes work has to be done undercover. I won’t lie about my beginnings, but I know how to avoid volunteering information other people don’t need.”

“Very good. There will likely be more questions for you – everyone will experience that as well so you aren’t being singled out. Do you need to use the facilities?”

“I’d just gotten things taken care of when you people showed up at the city gate. I do need to visit the refuse cans area,” It told her referring to getting rid of the stinky stuff from Bam-Bam.

“Do so but be quick. Don’t let anyone …” I nodded understanding she was warning me about potential pranks to keep me from getting back on the mover in time.

In fact, I was back before most of the others, including the driver. Chief Madison looked a little irritated at everyone’s tardiness, but then started handing out boxed meals as people came in. They were more like snack meals, but I noticed there was no grumbling. That told me that food had been in short supply for everyone on the mover and any food was better than no food. Granola bar, fruit cup, sunflower seeds, and a box of juice. Looked like a lot of carbs to me and sure enough, not long after eating most of the other trainees started sliding down in their seats and half-way going to sleep.

But it wasn’t for long. Chief Madison started back with her lecture.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 6 (Part 3)

“I’ve already spoken with a couple of you about clothing. Let’s cover this more in-depth.” Some people listened to the topic as if it was boring, some with extreme interest. I think it may have corresponded to the size of the container their belongings were in. I was the only one that had been pushing a shopping cart but there were a couple of wagons, a furniture dolly, a rolling footlocker, and the rest was a mish-mash of luggage, backpacks, and duffle bags.

From the way the others were answering the questions posed to them I wasn’t the only one that was going to need help to adjust my wardrobe for a cooler climate. Then she went on to living arrangements.

“This isn’t boarding school. This isn’t the military. The reason our program is small is we try and afford each trainee one-on-one attention yet give them a sense of independence and responsibility, all within a group setting. Each of you will have your own cubicle space. We can make some allowances for siblings that absolutely want to remain together … we’ve got three sets of siblings right now; two sets bunk together, one set prefers to be independent of each other. Members of the opposite sex cannot bunk together regardless of whether they are closely related or not; but, allowances are made on almost all other fronts. Our goal is to keep families together, not tear them apart. We do have a small group of trainees with children, but Miss McCormack will have the youngest child on site. For everyone’s comfort we try and group those with children a little further away from single trainees because some of the children are still young enough they wake during the night. But for those with children no other allowances are made. The parent trainee is responsible for any and all ruckus, damage, etc. that the child creates. If the child is sick and you absolutely have to take a day off you will make that work up at the next available shift. Too many days off and you will be out of the program, the same as if you were working a job. Any questions?”

There were a couple including if the oldest ones would have to bunk with a lot of younger trainees.

“As I stated, this isn’t boarding school. Not all of the people you work with will be your age so you need to get along with people of a diverse age range and socioeconomic background. However, if you feel like there is going to be a problem with fraternization then report it immediately to a staff member. You’ll each have a cubicle of your own. You’ll be expected to keep it clean though we won’t white glove the space except for the monthly inspection. If there is a pop inspection you takes your lumps if you are a pig because an untidy living space is a sign of other untidy habits, most of which are frowned upon while in residence. The cubicles are 8’ x 8’, not huge but certainly enough room to stretch out. The rooms start out with a cot and a closet. How the rooms ultimately wind up will be up to your determination and creativity. That will be explained in due time,” she finished to head off any questions down that road.

Next, she covered responsibilities like caring for our own laundry, etc. but how we will also participate in cleaning and maintenance of The Farm. “Everyone takes a turn in the kitchen, everyone takes a turn cleaning the shower room and bathroom, everyone takes a turn in building maintenance and grounds. Particular talents will be given the opportunity to shine at different points along the training timeline. We take in new students every quarter; the number depends on the number that graduate or who are failed out of the program the previous quarter. You lot bring us back up to capacity.”

“We’ve covered room, now here’s board. Three meals per day are provided, the times of which are strictly regulated. If you are late, or miss a meal for some other reason, you’ll just need to wait until next meal time to get fed. Foraging in any of the gardens is grounds for immediate dismissal unless you have explicit, written permission as part of a training event. You will not poach and/or forage on anyone else’s property either; that can get you arrested if not shot. This is not Disney World, this is the real world and if you commit a crime you will suffer the consequences for it. You will not leave The Farm unless you have permission to do so and are in company of a staff member or some other official chaperone.”

I saw some uncomfortable looks as this bit of information was laid on us. One of the guys raised his hand and then asked, “I know you said that this wasn’t boarding school or prison but …?”

Chief Madison nodded. “I understand your concern. Let me be frank here. Many trainees come to us with criminal histories or other at-risk behaviors that have left them to be easily victimized by society. Many come with little regard for the property of others, for personal responsibility, or for personal accounting. For many The Farm is actually their first steps in an adult world.” The Chief looked around like she was measuring each one of us to see what our reactions were to her words. I kept my face carefully neutral, a skill I learned when I first went to live with Ree-Ree.

“The Farm and its Staff are responsible for you trainees. Our jobs depend as much on our work ethic and sticking to the rules as you will find that your position as trainee does. We aren’t unsympathetic. However, trainees earn privileges and earn respect as they abide by the rules set forth, and as they advance in their program. Just like failure on your part can get you evicted from your place, failure on our part can lose us our job. It is a two-way street; the difference is that Staff Members have already earned their position, we are responsible for encouraging you to earn yours.” After a brief silence she added, “After the probationary period there will be the opportunity to earn passes off The Farm but there will always be a Staff member or Chaperone present. But don’t expect those to come every Friday night; as trainees in an accelerated work program you are going to be busy studying for skills tests, working on projects, and completing daily and weekly assigned work shifts. If you have no intention of fulfilling your part of the contract, then get off the mover at the next stop and keep going. There is a long waiting list for a trainee position and there are some that aren’t happy that you got to jump the line. Some applicants wait as long as two years to get into our program. Don’t waste our time, or anyone else’s, if you intend on just being a screw up.”

There was more than a thread of steel running through her words, more like a rod of it.

We’d been traveling for a while and had finally made it to Lakeland where we were directed onto Hwy 98 and started heading north. We were told there would be a lot of stopping and starting along the route and more than likely inspectors would board the mover and ask to see everyone’s ID so they should have them handy to make the process go as quickly as possible. I’d already learned that lesson on the road from Tampa to Plant City and from the looks of the others they were at least somewhat familiar with it as well.

A couple of stops later there was a big ruckus ahead of us at the side of the road. Looking out the window I could see several people face down on the ground with their hands zipped tied behind them. I also saw some injured people, a couple of them wearing uniforms. We were stopped and a National Guardsman got on and asked Chief Madison, “We’ve got an injured deputy that needs to get to the field hospital which is the next stop north. You have room to carry her?”

“We don’t have any medicos on board.”

“She’s stable, just triaged as the others are transported by helicopter. Do this and we’ll radio ahead and you can use the commercial lane all the way up.”

The driver looked at the Chief and she nodded then turned to the rest of us. “Anyone with first aid training of any kind?”

I’d learned never to volunteer but the fact that it was a deputy had me opening my mouth before I could reconsider. “CPR, pediatric first aid, and wilderness first aid certifications and my cards are still good.”

“Then step right up Miss McCormack.”

Bam-Bam was in a sling and I slid it so that he was asleep on my back and then walked forward as they helped the deputy board. She was awake but obviously in pain. When I saw her tag and that her name was Johnny Malone I was trying to figure out how to ask when she gritted out, “Changed it from Johnna in high school and it is too damn expensive to change it back … plus I’m not that girl anymore.”

“How about I just go with Deputy Malone. That’s who you are right now. What about your badge and your service piece? I don’t know if there are any thumb-locks on board. And it looks like your uni-camera is still going.” I said it a little nonchalantly but loud enough for some of the others that were getting curious could hear which had them easing back and out of the way.

Deputy Malone gave me a look and I whispered as I pretended to pick lint off of the bandage on her arm, “My dad was a detective in Tampa. Killed while on duty. Thought a little reveal would give us some win-win all around without making a fuss to get it. You get space and quiet and they don’t get in trouble for running their mouths the way a couple of them seem to want to lean.”

All I got was a grunt in the affirmative. Right as we were pulling out they asked, “Got room for two?”

What was the Chief supposed to say when they carried on some young Guardsman that didn’t look like he was doing too well. “You will have an escort all the way up. And thank you for the assist.”

Even with the escort it took forty-five minutes to get to the next stop and during that time I wound up nearly having to do CPR on the young guy as he tried to go into shock.

“Not happening mister. We are all tired of seeing dead people. You’re going to hang on and that’s that. Breathe, keep those lungs moving. Breathe in, exhale, breathe in, exhale. “

It was then that I noticed the two oldest trainees … friends named Jan and Jen … had gotten on the floor with me and were taking over caring for the deputy. She looked reluctant at first but seemed to relax as they shared personal info. By listening with half an ear I realized they’d been raised gender neutral but “once the plumbing started working we picked female but our Moms kept trying to convince us we were neutral with male aspects. Our plumbing said otherwise but by then no one wanted to listen to us. Changing your mind was bad for the movement.”

The deputy grimaced a really weird grin and said, “Damn the plumbing anyway. In high school I tried to get rid of mine, before they changed the law that you had to be eighteen before you could choose any type of surgical alteration or gender reassignment. Spent years in counseling second guessing that decision. You members of the movement?”

“Was. Got kicked out because we are moderates. Got in fights. Lost most of them and wound up in more trouble than we knew how to handle. You’ve probably heard the story.”

The older woman smiled kindly despite being in pain. “Sweethearts I lived the story. There’s hope. You’re just going to have to dig out and decide what it is you want and stop listening to everyone telling you what you are, who you are, and which way you are supposed to swing. Listen to your own soul.”

Everyone has a story.

 

[Lake Lili]

Thanks Kathy! Love this story!

Lili

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 7 (Part 1)

We off-loaded the two, injured people and then were shuffled on through and back onto the road. I was pretty wasted. It took a lot of my emotional energy because the young guy kept wanting to tank out. I learned he was the worst of the triaged injured. Triage doesn’t mean what I thought it meant. I thought it meant the worst injuries got the highest priority. It doesn’t mean that at all. It means treating the greatest number of people that have the greatest chance of survival with the least amount of resources first. Or something like that. Mostly it means that they put the young guy on the mover to get him to the field hospital because he was bottom of the barrel on the triage list and it was the only chance he had.

He lived. They were surprised; that’s what Momma would have called a sad commentary. They even had the morgue crew waiting for us. The Deputy Malone said something rude along the lines of, “Hah! We don’t need you.” It was a lot saltier than that but that’s the gist of it. The young guy even grabbed my hand like he was trying to say something.

I couldn’t understand him and he was getting upset so I told him, “Just keep breathing. Give them a chance to catch up and I bet you have everyone paying attention to you in no time.”

There was no time to do anything else and after we got back on the road it kinda hit me. I remember holding Momma’s hand as the pain got worse and worse and she finally passed. She fought to hang on til the very last moment, kept telling me things that she thought I needed to know, little bits of this and that though most of them didn’t make a whole lot of sense then or now. I have this little memory notebook that she started for me - that’s one of those micro tabs that I tucked with the family pictures - and sometimes I take it out and add something to it even now, or just listen to her voice sometimes. It was still recording when she patted my hand and let go and that’s one audio file I haven’t been able to listen to and maybe never will. By the time she let go I think we were both ready for her to pass. It still hurt, it still hurts now, but better for her to be gone and out of all the awful pain she was in than to be angry because she isn’t here. I’m messed up; I’m not that kind of messed up.

I nursed Bam-Bam and that helped with my pent-up feelings some. It’s those endorphins; they have a way of forcing calmness on you. I musta dozed for a bit because when I woke up the sky was getting that color right before evening really arrives. As for arriving, we were arriving at a big ride-share lot outside of a transport hub.

I wondered for a moment if I was going to have to decide what to keep and what to leave behind in a hurry until Chief Madison said, “Curfew in an hour. We made it to Ridge Manor, which is one hub further along than we expected, especially after the traffic snarl. Tomorrow we jump on I75. We have over ten people on board and are traveling beyond the state line so we are going to be allowed to pick up a magnetic tram line in Gainesville. Once we hook onto the strip, there will be no stopping until Dalton, not even for curfew. We will have to stop for some de-couplings but they weren’t bad coming down, just tended to be noisy and anything not nailed down got shaken up so keep track of your gear. We are also picking up four Staff Members and the trainees they are chaperoning. They’ll be bringing our supplies for the next couple of days. I’m giving you thirty minutes. How you use them is up to you. If you aren’t back in 30 then you are locked out for the night. Move it Trainees.”

Well I was more than ready to “move it” and was one of the first off the mover with my backpack and looking for the “facilities.” I got lucky and got directed to a baby changing slash family area. They’d just cleared out a bunch and I was able to get right in because my bladder was spazzing. What a relief. I even managed to give Bam-Bam a quick spit bath and get him dried off and dressed in something clean before trotting back to the mover. I ducked away from the attention of Mari who seemed to be drawing a select crowd, one I didn’t want to be in or be the target of. I came around the other side and got on just in time to get volunteered to help the newly arrived Staff and Trainees put their gear in the cargo and then hand out the boxed meals that were our evening repast.

Supper was a self-heat meal kit. Tasty was in the eye – or taste buds – of the partaker; but, given the fact that not long ago I was eating other people’s discards while I was in the homeless camp, I refused to gripe about it. All I did was ask if someone would trade the “zesty bbq” that I got for something less likely to upset Bam-Bam’s stomach. Everyone pretty much ignored me, and I was resigned until I felt a tap on my knee. I turned and then had to look down. It was one of the new trainees who had opted to sit on the floor. He wouldn’t look at me, but he was passing me a vegetarian pasta fagioli meal kit and I gladly traded.

“Thank you.”

He hunched his shoulders like I was going to slap at him or something, but nodded. I didn’t think much of it until Chief Madison said, “Look sharp, an inspector is coming this way. Those on the floor find a seat. Everyone get your papers out but just keep eating so we can off load the recyclables.”

It was pretty obvious the Quiet Guy was stressing and I realized he reminded me of some of the street people I’d met. Suspecting he was getting a little claustrophobic, I leaned over and whispered, “I’ll slide in. Bam-Bam can go back in the sling. You can have the outside seat. It’s no big. Then after, you can leave your gear and sit on the floor again if it is easier to breathe down there. C’mon before they make a case about it.”

I slid over and folded Bam-Bam’s carrier flat and slid it against the wall. He went in the sling and my backpack went under my feet. After a brief tug o’ war I got the guy to put his gear on the floor as well and then went back to eating as if it was no big deal.

I couldn’t see any damage but that didn’t mean the guy didn’t have any. He was wearing fatigues, only all of the insignia had been taken off. There was something about the way he wore them though that gave me the idea that he’d also worn them when they still had insignia on. A vet. A young guy too. So playing Sherlock I wound up guessing that maybe he had PTSD or maybe a brain injury of some type and The Farm was where they were going to try and give him some skills to get along in society so he wouldn’t join the already too many homeless vets with issues that were on the street.

He wolfed his food down … the zesty bbq something or other that he’d traded me for … and then took the packets of fruit paste, candy, squeeze packet of chocolate peanut butter, powdered drink mix, and seasoning packet and palmed them into one of his large pockets. I was starving so ate my dinner and the fruit paste, and thought about scarfing down the other stuff but I followed his example of carefully saving the other bits. I also tried to fold the meal packaging into the small ball that Quiet Guy did but my hands weren’t strong enough. I got close though. I caught Jan and Jen following suit, as well as two of the other guys that had come in with the quiet guy sitting beside me.

That’s how I thought of him and still do sometimes. Quiet Guy; like a persona that sometimes takes over whether he wants it to or not. It was a while before I ever heard a sound out of him. Turns out PTSD with a side order of torture where they yanked out all of his teeth trying to get him to talk or confess or whatever their goal was is what made him quiet. They broke his fingers too and a few other things. I overheard the people in the Infirmary talking about it when I came in but that was later. They were guessing that the electroshock that he was subjected to didn’t help either. Well duh.

That inspector was a jerk. Or maybe he was just tired and cranky or something but he was in the mood to give nearly everyone on the mover some grief. Me he got extra special personal with by blasting my personal and private story over the entire mover and making it as nasty sounding as possible.

When I didn’t do anything but stare at him he said, “Are you ignoring me girl?”

“No Sir, I’m memorizing your name and badge number so I can pass it along to my Trustees. They’ve asked that I keep track of my comings and goings so they can add it to the file for the Judge who oversees the Order of Protection that keeps What’s-His-Name’s estate from suing for custody of my son. They tried it once by twisting the facts. For most people once in the crosshairs of my guardian ad litem and her brother’s law firm is enough, but some people are hard headed. Some just get off on pushing people around, you know?”

He ignored me after that and was quickly gone. I got a few stares but it was Chief Madison that came over and asked quietly, “Was that a bluff or the truth?”

“Both. The story the guy told is true, just you and I both know he did it as nasty as possible. Doing that makes me feel … defensive. I already have had to deal with people trying to take Bam-Bam away from me … some for good reason and some to put me in my place and some to try and secure their own financial gain. Before Bob’s parental rights were stripped some of his family worried that I was going to take him to civil court. I could have won, but I preferred having Bob and Ree-Ree both out of my life. It took getting people in my business to stop other people from getting in my business. But that inspector-guy is a little fish with a big attitude. I just wanted to let him know that I might be a smaller fish than him, but I have friends with bigger teeth than him. He backed off, no need to take it any further. I don’t like using clubs on people, I prefer spending that time and energy improving myself so others don’t get the idea that they should even bother chewing on me. I’m going to The Farm to learn and earn my way, not to play at being a big fish in a little bowl. But I still have to do my job as a mom and protect Bam-Bam.”

She looked at me for nearly a half a minute before saying, “Just watch that chip you are carrying around. You keep understanding that you need to earn your way and you won’t have any problems.”

“That’s all I want … a chance to earn and learn. I’m not asking for anything else.”

She nodded once and then went back to the front to confab with the other staff people and I finally got some sleep. Normally a stranger, especially a male stranger, sitting beside me would not be conducive to resting but I was pretty wiped out and couldn’t fight the carb crash from the self-heat. I didn’t wake up until I heard some crying. It wasn’t Bam-Bam but it did belong to a little kid. I heard it coming from outside the mover.

Someone hissed, “Shut your damn kid up already.”

“S’not mine,” I whispered back quietly. “It’s coming from outside the mover. Like right outside my window outside.”

I realized Quiet Guy was at major attention and on guard. When one of the staff made a move to go out he rushed up and then I noticed he and one of the other guys that had come in with him acted really strange. The other guy pointed to Jen and Jan and then nodded his head at me. I wondered what the heck that meant but then the two women came towards me. I got ready to fight but they said, “Over here. Get away from the window.”

“What gives?” I asked as I complied since it seemed the staff had clued in as had some of the other Trainees.

“Don’t you watch the news? Could be a decoy. Terrorists are now using kids, they even strap bombs to ‘em.”

I was still trying to absorb that bit of nasty info when Quiet Guy and the other guy who I learned was named Dallas went out the door fast and silent. It was a tense minute and then Dallas stuck his head back in and called over one of the male staff – a Chief Jackson – he carefully went outside and then came back in and called Chief Madison to come out. Quiet Guy came back in and then stopped but didn’t seem to know what to do, just look at me.

“Abandoned kid?”

After a moment he gave a jerk of a nod. “How old? Diapers? Milk?”

The guy was getting stressed out so I stood up and went to go out but he stepped in front of me. I tried to go around but he got in front of me again.

“Okay. I’m not supposed to go outside and help.”

That’s when Chief Madison stepped back on, took a look at me and said, “You got any extra?”

“Extra what?” Then it clicked. “Oh. Uh. Hmmm. Not on me,” I said picking a euphemism. I didn’t want to short Bam-Bam or risk any kind of contamination of his food factory. However I said, “But I got one last 4 ounce disposable for emergencies if there’s some room temp water. I’ll donate it to the cause.”

“Kids a mess. I hate to even bring him on the mover. You’re going to need to at least come to the door.”

Easier said than done with Quiet Guy in my space but after a moment he moved but I still felt like I was being herded like my old dog used to try and do to me when I was little and still wearing leg braces.

The kid was older than Bam-Bam, older and bigger, but I had a feeling he should have been even bigger than he was. Before that hour was finished I knew what having twins would have been like. I was juggling Bam-Bam who had smelled the formula and thought it was chow time and the other baby was old enough that he recognized what a bottle was and was grabbing for it and trying to take it away from me. I was nursing Bam-Bam on one side and trying to help the other kid with the other arm.

A woman showed up just in time to see the last of the formula disappear and the kid start crying pathetically again. “That’s some juggling act. Want some help?”

I looked up at Chief Madison as I leaned into the legs of Quiet Guy who had stood there at my back whether I wanted him there or not. Wound up stepping forward to help me keep my balance while I was “juggling.”

The Chief answered for me. “Younger of the two is hers. The older one was found abandoned outside the mover an hour ago. We reported it immediately.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. We’re short staffed at the clinic and the message didn’t say how young the kid was.” She bent down towards me and she must have seen the distrust but she didn’t get irritated. “Here’s my badge. My specialty is pediatrics so that’s why I came with Sgt. Malone here. Sergeant, wanna vouch for me?”

Hearing the title sergeant made me look up at Quiet Guy and though his face didn’t show surprise his eyes did. He gave a very small nod and I turned the abandoned kid over to the woman. She said real nicely to the nearly hysterical baby, “There we go. Bet you are still hungry and wouldn’t mind getting a change.”

“I already changed him. He has bad diaper rash. I put some butt cream on him but it is still bad. The diaper he had on was soaked through.”

“Well that’s a good sign at least. We’ve found a few kids that were so dehydrated they could have been wearing their nappies for days and you wouldn’t know the difference.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 7 (Part 2)

The rest of the evening was quiet and morning came too early for some trainees and I heard some nasty comments about kids and babies and people who had them. I was feeling a little crappy myself and it didn’t help that Bam-Bam’s schedule was off. He’s usually okay since he’s never had a schedule, but everyone is allowed to be particular every once in a while. The thing is I was starting to feel weepy on top of it which didn’t make it any easier to handle.

Looking back I can see that I was due a meltdown. For a while my emotional switch had been toggled off – or at least partially off. My hormones realigning to the not-pregnant side of life, learning to feed Bam-Bam and him being totally dependent on me for everything and the bigness of that, not even two weeks after birth the hurricane happening, the dead, the smell, the homelessness, having to move on down the road so many times, the lack of sleep and food and hygiene, and then the realization that I was leaving everything I knew – not that there was much left by that point; it was just huge and I was getting overwhelmed.

But I’m the mom and couldn’t afford to have a meltdown. That meant sucking it up and marching on. Only I was tired and marching and being strong was really hard. I supposed I shut down and zoned out a bit. The feelings were a huge ball of knots inside me. I leaned into my corner and tried deal with Bam-Bam and tried to not get noticed. I didn’t want to be the nail that had to get hammered down.

I took the breakfast box that was handed to me but only because Quiet Guy tapped me on the knee to get my attention since I was zoning. There was grumbling from all sides as people started complaining about the food and everything else they thought was wrong in their world at that moment. Considering what I had been eating before I lucked into the food left behind at the half-way house, what was in the box was fine dining, but it definitely wasn’t what Momma would have fixed. There was some kind of breakfast bar that was supposedly nutritionally balanced but tasted like it was made primarily of stale shortbread cookies and cardboard with a little gravel thrown in for texture. That was the bulk of the meal but there was also a packet of peanut butter, a packet of jelly, a packet of hot sauce (who knows why), a packet of lemon juice that I assume went with the packet of tea leaves though there wasn’t any water for the tea. Then there were a couple of small packets of other things like salt, pepper, sugar (and it was the real stuff believe it or not), and a packet of creamer that went with the packet of instant coffee. I had a hard time not gagging when I watched some people dump the packet of instant coffee, creamer, and sugar into the bottle of water we were each handed. I never learned to drink coffee because to me it tastes pretty nasty even “properly doctored like civilized people” the way Momma had made hers. The idea of drinking it the way I saw them doing it was nauseating … lukewarm with a side of gross from the floating bubbles of undissolved powdered cream.

Jan … or maybe it was Jen … chuckled at the look on my face and said, “Caffeine, one of the major food groups.” The way she said it I got the idea that she was better educated than your average gang banger girl. I tucked that bit of knowledge away in case it became important down the road.

All I could reply was, “You go right on ahead. I’ll keep my stomach right where it is thank you anyway.”

They both chuckled again but that is about the only chuckling that was going on and apparently it was getting on someone’s nerves.

“Enough.” The snarl came from Chief Jackson, one of the Staff that had come on board the night before. “Damn you’re a bunch of complaining babies. Whatever is up your butt, get rid of it before we get back on the road. I am not listening to a bunch of snot-nosed trainees bitch all day. Move it. You have thirty minutes. Dallas, Cooper, Trahern … ride herd on these sheep to keep them from being shorn.” He gave Quiet Guy a particular look. I wondered which one he was; I knew he wasn’t Dallas so he had to be either Cooper or Trahern. Then I wondered why I was wondering because it was none of my business.

But on the way to the facilities I started wondering again as I was obviously being herded extra special. Quiet Guy was leading the way while Jan and Jen acted like bookends and all three even walked into the family section with me.

“What gives? I’m not running off. Is this a shake down?” I asked backing away from them a little only to nearly back into Quiet Guy who came in behind me.

Jan shook her head. “No. Just get your business done so we can do ours.”

Quickly going into a stall I asked over the door, “And why do I have to get all sorts of special treatment?”

“Damn you are a minnow.”

“Huh?” I asked, starting to resent their attitude.

“Get a brain girl. Traffickers. How you avoided getting picked up before now I don’t know.”

“Oh. Well in the homeless camp there was this guy – might have been a guardian angel for all I know – and he looked out for some of us until the jerks that took over the other part of the old flea market ruined it by drawing too much notice from the local po po. Well not really local, they might have been State though some people said they had to be Federal. All I know is they swatted the camp in the middle of the night and everyone scrambled. Then a couple of hookers told me to stay away from the waterfront and I had to take the long way around. Then I got in line to walk to Plant City and the lawyer’s office got me on here. But I was still on my own a lot … I just learned … or was taught … by the Street People how to survive by avoiding stuff and people.”

I came out to find Quiet Guy just looking at me like I was an interesting bug that he was considering poking with a stick to see what made me tick. I considered sticking my tongue out at him but knew that would not be the mature thing to do and it wouldn’t be a great example for Bam-Bam either. Momma certainly wouldn’t have thought much of it so my tongue stayed in my mouth and I started keeping my words behind my teeth as well.

Jen was washing up and said, “Guardian angel huh?” I shrugged but she surprised me by saying, “Those come few and far between.”

Jan added, “Yeah. So from here on out think like you’ve used up your quota and have to do it all on your own from now on. You don’t look dumb enough to take candy from strangers but don’t believe anyone that might promise you something for the kid either. Dallas said Cooper heard that the kid from last night was identified as some kid that was missing from some refugee camp. Don’t know why he got abandoned except maybe it was making too much noise or became too much trouble or a sell fell through. Who knows? But the way you hang onto that baby it’s obvious you don’t want to lose it."

“Bam-Bam is a him, not an it. And no, nothing is happening to my baby.”

“You carrying protection?” Jen asked.

“Uh …”

“I ain’t talking about sex.”

Thinking of a couple of the homemade shivs that I’d found when I had looked through the half-way house and hidden for my own purposes, I nodded.

“On you?”

A little distrustfully I slowly nodded again.

“Good. You keep it that way. Don’t let whatever it is get taken away from you but don’t play with it like it is a toy either so that others know about it. Sometimes carrying obvious is a deterrent and sometimes it makes you a target. We got a few too many head cases …” Turning to Quiet Guy she said, “Sorry.” Back to me she said, “Too many head cases that want to start crap or be part of crap getting started. Best guess is that at least half of those on the mover wash out before year is over. And some of them that wash out will be happy to take the other half with them if they can pull it off. Keep yourself to yourself as much as possible. Understand?”

“Unfortunately,” I told her, depressed even more than I had been.

As we hustled back to the mover I knew I had even more to think – and worry – about.

 

[Griz3752]

Another new title to me

 

[Kathy in FL]

Thanks Kathy! Love this story!

Lili

I'll post this one some chapters a day until it is all copied over. I've got a lot of writing to do. And real life to do. So I'll get it over here and complete as soon as I can.

 

[Siskiyoumom]

Appreciate your efforts!

 

[Griz3752]

Priorities Ma'am
I'm sure you know how to set them but your family & business have to come 1st which includes a little mental health care for you.

 

[Mr Bill]

Thanks bunches

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 8 (Part 1)

I’m not even going to bother describing the next two days, or at least not describe them in detail. It isn’t worth wasting the ink or the paper or the time. The mover moved. Every once in a while there would be the shake up and rattle caused by a decoupling but otherwise one hour looked just like the next. If things weren’t getting rattled we were either eating or taking tests. That was a shocker for some.

Chief Jackson proved yet again that he had a low tolerance for whiners. “Too bad. If you thought this was a pleasure cruise to a resort for the lazy, rich, and famous you will either adjust your thinking, or you’ll fail and be removed from The Farm. You aren’t rich, you aren’t famous, and you sure as hell won’t be lazy on my watch. There isn’t a lot of leisure time where you are going and what there is, you will earn through hard work and scores. These tests will be what determines which training program you are ultimately assigned to so you can earn that leisure time you seem so hot and bothered about not having.”

Someone towards the back said, “These ain’t like no tests I’ve seen. Where’s the math and spelling and crap like that? What the hell difference does it make whether I like everyone I meet or if I like doing things fast or perfect? What kind of dumb ass questions are those?”

Chief Jackson looked like he wanted to know whether the questioner would like to ride inside or outside the mover, but Chief Madison took over. “They are simply part of a battery of test questions that help us to evaluate your suitability for one program over another. Some questions are academic, some questions are for determining personality and learning styles, some are for creativity, etc. The goal of The Farm isn’t to make cogs for someone’s wheel, we want to see our trainees go on to positions of success and leadership in their career field and in their communities. Part of how we do this is by matching a trainee into the program that best suits their strengths while mitigating any potential weakness. You may not like the method Mr. Vinton,” addressing the guy that had spoken. “But experience has proven that this is the most correct way of insuring a satisfactory conclusion for both trainees and future employers. If you refuse or fail to apply yourself to completing these tests you will be removed at the next decoupling.” Everyone pretty much shut up after that. Chief Jackson looked a little disappointed that he didn’t get to throw anyone off.

Lunch was another bag meal. It looked like something that a local charity had put together from some food barrel rejects. Everyone’s bag had something different in it. This time Mari Johnson was the one that gave out the bags and I could see the smirk on her face when she handed mine to me. Mine looked like it had gotten stepped on or was made up of the dregs of the rejects. Quiet Guy in contrast had a meal made up of a couple of cans of stuff that looked like it came from some high end green grocer.

I wanted to laugh at Mari if she thought she was putting me in my place. The only thing “wrong” with mine was that the crackers were crushed and that wasn’t anything to cry over. I was happily opening my bag while I balanced Bam-Bam’s carrier with him in it when I noticed from the corner of my eye that Quiet Guy, Jan, Jen, and Dallas were looking at theirs.

Quiet Guy wasn’t talking so I leaned over and asked Jan and Jen, “What’s up? Out of date or something?”

“No pop tops.”

“Oh. Hang on.” I had to wiggle in the seat, but out of a pocket I pulled a can opener. “Watch out, the tip is sharp.” I handed it to Quiet Guy who I think only took it because he was so surprised.

Jan and Jen asked quietly, “How did you get that?”

“The opener? Mr. JR found it for me … he’s my … or was … my guardian angel for a while right after the storm. He is the one that found Bam-Bam and I and dug us out and then took care of us when no one the FEMA lady said was coming actually came.” I was mixing the crushed crackers with the squeeze cheese. “He’s the one that … well him and a couple of other Street People he set to watch me when he wasn’t around … they taught me some street smarts. And one of those smarts was to always be prepared with simple tools. And that can opener is pretty simple. He called it a P-38 and that it is the world’s greatest invention.”

Dallas nodded his head and said, “Sure is. Hurry up and pass it over Chay. That protein bar didn’t exactly fill me up. Speaking of … how come your lunch is so much smaller than ours? You on that girl’s special treatment list?”

I shrugged. “Something like that I guess. It’s no big deal. This one has some milk in it which is better for Bam-Bam anyway.” I then took a slice of the summer sausage and spread the cracker/cheese mixture on it and popped it in my mouth. “Finally. Something not guaranteed to give me heartburn and Bam-Bam an upset stomach.”

Everyone was eating quietly when something dropped into my lap from overhead. It was a fruit paste bar, the kind Momma would get at the holidays. I looked around and then noticed Chief Jackson looking too innocent and Dallas looking like he was trying not to laugh.

“What?”

“Slice that and share it out,” he told me.

I looked around to count how many slices only to see other groups get one or two bars to split between them as well.

“Five or ten?”

“Can’t count girly?”

“No Sir … well I mean I can count but I don’t see the Staff have one of these bars to split. That means either you have one and I don’t see it, you don’t want it, or you are throwing in with us to get some of this one.”

Chief Jackson was momentarily surprised but then shook his head. “We’ve got our own.”

“Yes Sir.”

So I sliced the guava and cream cheese bar into five slices using a plastic spork with a serrated edge on one side that I kept in the same pocket as the P-38 and handed it around. It was good but rich so I only ate half and wrapped the other half in some of the leftover plastic and tucked it into a corner of the diaper bag.

After lunch clean up where I palmed the leftover salt and pepper out of Jan and Jen’s trash before separating the recyclables into containers it was back to the tests. Vinton may not have phrased his complaint very politely, but he wasn’t wrong; some of the questions on the test were weird and nosey. Then came dinner – an unappetizing hodge podge of junk that filled the corners but that’s about it. There was stale popcorn during a vid that gave us our first glimpse of The Farm only it went down after the first few minutes after an energy conservation announcement went up and down through the mover speakers. I sensed the mover slowing down but it didn’t stop.

Dallas turned around in his seat and I heard him explain to Jan and Jen, “Magnetic is what keeps us moving though with the number of movers on the line the system is probably struggling to stay in motion. It’s the solar system that powers everything else. Sun goes down so does the power we can draw from.”

Chief Jackson said, “Aren’t you lucky. No vid means no pop quiz on whether you were watching and listening. Hit the hay trainees. Even moving this slow we should still reach our decoupling location mid-morning.”

I heard a few grumbles which made me realize that I was not traveling with the smartest bunch on the planet. Chief Jackson reminded me of the resource officer at my old high school. Could be nice if it suited him but he sure didn’t put up with much. My first impression proved to be true and then some, but the confirmation didn’t come until later.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 8 (Part 2)

I woke up to feel something crawling on my leg. My eyes opened sleepily and I saw a big palmetto bug. Nasty things. This one was the size of a baby bird and looked like it was getting ready to fly. Part of me wanted to smack it but the smarter part of my brain that had woken up knew if I did that (1) it would be a disgusting mess, and (2) it would stink as they made a horrible odor when squished. I was debating what to do as it was about to crawl into Bam-Bam’s carrier when Quiet Guy reached over and caught it with his hands, stood up quickly and then disposed of it in the trash masher at the front of the mover.

When he sat back down I heard some whispering a couple of seats back. I didn’t need to turn and look to remember who was sitting here. As Quiet Guy slid back down in his seat and pulled his hat down I handed him a wetnap to wipe his hands with. For the first time he looked at me square and I nodded a thank you. He nodded back but that was it. Me on the other hand I decided then and there to help him when and if I could. I thought maybe I’d found a way to pay forward the help Mr. JR and Proud Mary had given me.

Next morning was similar to the one before except there wasn’t a facility break. We all had to take turns walking to the rear mover car where the cargo was and using a recycling toilet. I’m glad I was one of the first to be allowed to go because I heard that by the time the last ones went it smelled plenty ripe, even with the toilet chemicals in it absorbing most of the gross. I think maybe Chief Madison has her own way of checking people’s egos … she kept Mari’s little crowd out for last and Mari for very last.

Breakfast was some kind of cream of wheat slurry that we sucked out of something that looked like a tube of toothpaste with some freeze-dried fruit bits that kept it from going straight through. An electrolyte drink powder that could be dumped into our bottle of water. There was also a disposable toothbrush and floss pick and then to finish off the not-so-tasty combo, there was a dissolvable tab of mouth freshener. Mm mm mmmmm. Yuck.

There was nothing to save back, not even a napkin or wet nap. More fun came in the shape of trying to complete the last couple of tests while feeding Bam-Bam the bottomless pit and changing his diaper soon after that. My water bottle was empty and I was really thirsty but there was nothing for it but to push on through. I knew I had water in my buggy but they kept the cargo car locked so there was no excuse for any of us to be moving around.

True to Chief Jackson’s predictions we decoupled mid-morning but it was another hour before we were able to get off of the rail line and onto a road and then stop at a recharging station.

“Welcome to Dalton, GA.”

I heard someone mutter the old phrase “Now go home,” getting a few chuckles.

Chief Jackson nodded. “Have your laugh now but for some of you trainees that may become all too true.” The chuckling stopped. “We’ve got an hour of charging here and then another two hours of drive time to get to The Farm. We’ve got one more test and that one is to see how well you’ve been listening. It covers the rules, dress code, and acceptable behavior for trainees. This one also has a written portion where we want you to explain what you are looking to get out of your time at The Farm.”

They then handed out the tablets and we were at that until right before we entered this little town called Trickum. When I say little I mean the place didn’t even have a stoplight, not that it needed one. Its one road dead ended at a gate in the forest. The gate had a guard post.

“Trainees stand and gather your gear. Those of you with things in the cargo area step to the rear and prepare to sign for its release. You walk in from here.”

It blew me away that some of them still had the stuffing to groan in complaint. I was more convinced than ever that some of them were going to lose their place pretty quickly.

It took more time than what Chief Jackson thought it should to get everyone disembarked and ready to go. “Time is money trainees. McCormick are you going to be able to handle that mess without tipping it?”

I wanted to smart off but all I said aloud was, “Yes Sir.”

All he did was give me a look of disbelief, but he didn’t say anything. I figured that I would need to prove myself. Lucky for me the incline in the road was mostly gentle. It was only the last fifty feet or so that nearly broke me. Ugh. I’ve gotten a lot stronger and harder since then, but it wasn’t really the incline so much as the fact that my sandals were ill-suited to what I was doing. And it was cold. It was a lot colder than I had realized in the crowded mover. And there was a sharp wind that tried to steal Bam-Bam’s breath. I stopped and pulled out my windbreaker from the buggy and rigged it over the carrier and then started pushing again. That’s when I realized that Quiet Guy was tracking me.

I looked at him and nodded and mouthed, “I’m okay but thank you.” I kept walking but he didn’t move off until the guys were directed to one door and females through another. I was the only one with a kid so I was sent down another hallway where a nurse met me and giving all of my gear a surprised look she directed me to my new home. She walked in with me and there wasn’t a whole lot of room but there hadn’t been at the half-way house either.

“My name is Nurse Gilroy. I’m the intake nurse for trainees. We already have your medical file since you had your ID cards, but we still need to do a physical exam. Leave your gear here and you can unpack later. You can eat your lunch while we look over … hmmm … Blake. I see you gave him your surname.”

“Not to be rude but did you actually read the med charts?”

“Excuse me?”

“Like I said, not wanting to be rude but …” I sighed. “Am I going to have to tell the story all over again?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“Yes. No. I guess not but I don’t want to wallow in it for the rest of our lives either. It happened. I don’t want it to define us.”

She gave me a considering look. “Yes, We’ve read your charts. The baby’s father had his parental rights stripped.”

“Bob was never Bam-Bam’s father. He is just a poor guy that has lost his mind through an organic brain disease. The way I understand it that might not even be his fault either but might be because of some steroids he took for asthma. I’m told he was a nice guy before the disease got away from him. People just didn’t want to believe me when I was telling them some stuff because it was so out of character for who he used to be. As for Ree-Ree … my step grandmother … I’m not even sure how much was her fault and how much was just her refusal to believe things were the way they were; she was that type of person.”

“That type of person?”

“You know, they think something is a certain way therefore it simply must be that way. She’s not a bad person … she’s just a person that was bad for me to be with because of what she believed. And they aren’t part of our story anymore and I want to leave them in the past rather than drag them around like baggage forever.”

She didn’t respond but went onto the next topic. “Here’s your key. Don’t lose it. A replacement or re-key will cost you a demerit and a fee. Bring your ID and medical cards and let’s go to the clinic.”

“Can I bring the diaper bag? He’ll want to eat pretty soon.”

She looked at her tablet and said, “Our understanding was that you breastfeed.”

“I do but after feeding he wants to have a clean diaper on before sacking out for his next power nap.”

She nodded her understanding but said, “Don’t worry about the diaper bag, we already have supplies for you to sign for.”

“I use cloth diapers with liners.”

“Intentionally and not just out of necessity?”

“Er … I guess. I just use cloth diapers. And liners. They’re easier to clean that way.”

“You’ll need to do your own laundry.”

I wanted to ask how she thought I’d been getting along up to that point but didn’t and just nodded and said, “Yes ma’am.” Sometimes no matter what you do people think you don’t have much commonsense. I still reached in and grabbed the butt cream that I’d been using on Bam-Bam as well as a little package that had a diaper, wipes, liners, and a baggie to put the dirty diaper in until I could rinse it out and wash it.

I followed her to the clinic all the while getting a lecture on what was expected and how I wouldn’t just get demerits for not taking care of Bam-Bam but could lose him to social services. I grew cautious the more she rattled on. Fine, I might have a chip on my shoulder like people accuse me of and have a trust issue but I’m the one that has been living in my shoes not them and it is people like Nurse Gilroy that made me feel distrustful. I didn’t like the implied threat that there were so many different reasons and ways that they could take Bam-Bam away.

I walked in to the clinic and knew right away something was going down. Dallas and Cooper were tense, and I saw Quiet Guy backed into a corner with people nattering at him. The more they nattered and tried to calm him down the more stressed he looked.

I realized they’d tried to put him in a little room with no windows. Taking a chance I walked over and made a production of looking in I said, “Geez, what a box. It is like the bathroom where I was stuck during the hurricane. Turns my stomach.” By that time I’d walked close enough to Quiet Guy that I reached out and touched his wrist making him jump. I told him, “I’ll sit with you if you’ll sit with me.”

He looked at me like I was half a bun short of a hamburger, but he stopped shaking. “Come on. We’ll sit here and they can yatter at us and take their measurements and whatever. C’mon. It can’t be any more embarrassing than what we’ve already gone through right?”

Slowly, still looking at me like I was some exotic form of crazy, he sat down beside me on one of those rolling stools.

Nurse Gilroy looked surprised but who really looked surprised were Dallas and Cooper. They immediately relaxed and sat down and acted as normal as I’d ever seen them act.

I started answering the questions that were being thrown at me and I was doing fine until they took Bam-Bam over to some exam table while they asked me to stay where I was. Then they took him where I couldn’t see him and then I heard him cry and I stood up, but the orderly got in front of me. I would have pushed him but a hand on my shoulder stopped me. I looked around for who it was and it was Quiet Guy. He patted my shoulder then pointed to my chair and it wasn’t a second before they were bringing a very upset Bam-Bam back.

Before I could growl and ask what were they doing to my baby Nurse Gilroy said, “We pricked his heel for some bloodwork. Settle him down and then it’s your turn.”

They didn’t have to tell me twice. Bam-Bam was having a major meltdown and I finally had to just set him to nursing.

“Silly boy, now you’re going to have hiccups and you know you hate having the hiccups,” I told him. It took a minute, but he was finally more interested in chow time than he was in pitching a snit fit. When he finally calmed down, I looked up to find everyone watching me. Most of them quickly looked away after getting caught gawking but not Nurse Gilroy or Quiet Guy. Quiet Guy looked fascinated and didn’t even seem to care that they’d taken off his shirt and stuff. I got a glimpse of the scars all over his back and chest but refused to let my upset surprise show.

I turned to Nurse Gilroy, ignoring Quiet Guy’s intense scrutiny, and said, “I’m a bleeder. Last time they took blood it was a mess. And I get kinda woozy if more than a vial is taken so don’t expect me to be able to waltz or anything for a few minutes.”

“We are a no-waltzing-required facility.”

I decided to give Nurse Gilroy a chance to grow on me since she didn’t make a snarky comment about my weak stomach and even tried to be nice. The problem came when it was time to draw the blood. I didn’t have the carrier to put Bam-Bam down in. Putting him in the sling wasn’t going to work either because he was in wiggle mode. I looked and then handed him to Quiet Guy.

“Don’t joggle him too much or he’ll burp up all over you.” Then I laughed. “You don’t need to hold him like he’s about to go off though. Here. Like this. See? He likes you. Just watch out, he’s a hair puller.”

Bam-Bam wasn’t squawking so I wasn’t worried; he knows who he likes and who he doesn’t and lets everyone else know his opinion real fast. And sure enough, after they took all of the vials of blood they needed, I wound up having to put my head between my knees or slide out of the chair onto the floor. They made me drink some juice and soon enough I was back to normal – whatever normal means for me – and was able to take Bam-Bam back. They were still banging away at me with questions, but it was time for the other three men to go.

“Chay. C’mon man. We need to get to the chow hall.”

I realized that must be Quiet Guy’s name. I’d already heard it once, but this only confirmed it; I just didn’t know if it was first name or last. Only he wasn’t budging and the other two were looking concerned. That’s when I realized it had to do with me. I looked at him and said, “I’m okay now. If I get in a bind I’ll holler, but I also gotta learn to stand on my own two feet. But thanks.” He looked at me serious and I saw it was a question. “Really. I’m okay. You know, now that the whole giving them a gallon of blood is done and over.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 8 (Part 3)

He slowly pointed to my coat, my feet, and then at Bam-Bam. I said, “I’m working on it. And I have boots, I’ll just dig them out tonight.”

He finally left and I would have just glossed over the whole thing, but Nurse Gilroy insisted on reminding me, “There’s no fraternization between trainees.”

“Ugh. Not what is going on.”

“Are you sure?”

“Completely. Look, I just learned that you don’t get through life without a little help. But you’re supposed to pay that help back too. And … um … him … he sorta reminds me of some of the Street People that gave me a hand right after the storm.”

She looked at her tablet and then started asking me questions about how I’d survived and all that yada, yada. She finally ran out of questions – I was beginning to think she was on some endless flowchart where one question only led to the next one in an endless loop – and said, “Perhaps under normal circumstances I would not believe you concerning the fraternization but as it happens I do. It also so happens that Corporal Trahern’s personal history makes this odd situation even more plausible. I would suggest that … hmmm …”

“You know my beginning. You know what happened to me. You know my dad was a cop. You know I’ve spent time on the street surviving. If I was the breakable type it would have happened a long time ago. So whatever his damage is, if you think I should know then fine. If it is none of my business that’s fine too. But you don’t have to worry that you are going to traumatize me with the truth.”

She leaned back a little and gave a small smile. “So I’m beginning to understand.” She thought for a moment then said, “You don’t need to know the guy’s life story but I will tell you this. He had a wife and child. He now has an ex-wife and the child turns out it wasn’t his to begin with. That’s only added a layer of trauma to a POW experience that has left plenty of physical scars to go with his emotional ones. You saw what he was like when you entered the clinic. You saw – or maybe not – how surprised his friends were to see how well you handled him.”

“Oh for … look, he has really bad claustrophobia. I just gave him an out by saying I did too and would he sit with me so I wouldn’t freak. Don’t make it to be more than it is.”

She looked at me and said, “Hmmm. You may not view it as surprising but given his record and recent history it is. Just don’t turn into his enabler. In order to successfully complete his training and rehab here he needs to conquer his emotions.”

“Instead of conquer how about just learn to manage. If it is as bad as you are making it out he is probably scarred for life and nothing will change that. Mr. JR, that homeless guy I told you about, he said that life isn’t always an all or nothing situation. Sometimes you need to learn to make do with what you have until you have a little more.”

“You are a little young to be phlegmatic.”

I wondered if she was testing my vocabulary with that term but gave her the point when I answered honestly. “If you mean I’m not being very emotional about the entire thing then I don’t think that has anything to do with age. I’ve just learned that being what my Mom used to call a Drama Queen doesn’t get you anything in the long run and it creates even more work for you in the short run. Plus … well … I’m the Mom now. It might be for a different reason than most people become parents but that doesn’t change what I am. I could have given Bam-Bam up for adoption. A lot of people were telling me I shouldn’t even have let him be born to begin with but that’s … not something I could do. My life is and has been worth living. Sure, there has been problems but that doesn’t mean I wish I hadn’t been born. The way Bam-Bam was created isn’t his fault and for whatever reason he was created in me … so I want him to have the same chances that my parents gave me. I don’t want to just be his womb-donor. So what if in this life I rub up against people with issues and problems? The world is full of people like that. You learn to get along with them the same way people have to learn to get along with you … me … I mean you in general.”

Saving me from the pronoun circus I had fallen into she said, “A commendable sentiment, just remain cautious and don’t … hmmm … what I’m trying to say is that according to your test scores your personality type leans heavily in the nurturing spectrum. You just need to watch out to not let your natural inclinations get beyond your control and, with the best of intentions handicap yourself or others by doing too much of a good thing.”

“You mean like caregiver burnout? They talked about that at the halfway house, but it was more for the staff than it was for us residents. And the flip side, in case you were worried, is that I need to be careful not to abuse the sheep dog personality that the Quiet Guy … that Corporal Trahern … has. Especially since it isn’t fair to use Bam-Bam in case he is sad about the little kid part of his story.”

She nodded then gave a small smile and said, “Something like that. I won’t mention it in treatment team unless I think it is becoming an issue.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Now let’s get you to Supply.” She looked at her watch and said, “On second thought let’s get you over to the cafeteria, then over to Supply. Since you already use cloth diapers I think you’ll appreciate what we have available. I also want to make sure that Blake has some warmer weather clothing.”

“How much is this going to cost?” I asked trying to remember if Chief Madison had covered any of that my first day.

“Nothing in the long run if you return the clothing clean and in good condition. At first you’ll run a negative on your credit savings, but many new trainees do. There will be opportunities for you to work it off even if you aren’t able to return items.”

The smell when we walk into cafeteria made my stomach roll. Not because the smell was bad but because it had been so long since I smelled that amount of food in one location all smelling homemade and good. I was half-way to the line when I saw trouble brewing. Mari. I wondered plenty of times what that girl’s problem was; that wasn’t the first time and it sure wouldn’t be the last.

Apparently this time Mari was disgruntled because she was “green” and was something called a “raw vegan.” It wasn’t the food – that is pretty much a thing and lots of places have vegan food just like they carry sugar-free and low-fat and things like that. No, she was giving someone grief because they wanted her to take supplements and she was refusing to take them until they showed her they were animal product free and some other jibber jabber I was only catching with half an ear.

I decided to ignore Miss Drama and see what meal time looked like at The Farm. And it was worth a look. It wasn’t a buffet exactly. Actually it was a little on the weird side. Since I had missed the first meal training session, Nurse Gilroy explained things to me. They operated on the old food pyramid scheme where you were supposed to have so many servings of what they called food groups during the day. Then that got adjusted against the portion size and calorie allotment you were assigned each week based on your health statistics and the work you did. Your gender, body type, and gene testing also played a role in your personal diet plan. For example, a guy at hard labor is going to be assigned a lot more calories than a woman sitting at a sewing machine all day.

Nurse Gilroy told me to insert my medical card into the chip reader. When I did that out popped this small piece of paper like a receipt and on it was the number of portions from each of the food groups. I was to make my food choices based on the receipt and spread it out over three meals. She said that I was to do that at the beginning of each meal and that I also gave my card to the staff person at the end of the line who would note what foods and portions I had taken so that at my next meal it would tell me how many of each I had left. She said, “Occasionally there are free-food sessions, such as when you start to learn to forage or how to use the various foods that come out of the gardens here at The Farm. Or if there is a movie night and there’s popcorn. For now, your plan takes into account you are nursing exclusively. You have a relatively low BMI but since we can’t tell if that is due to recent lack of access to food or if it is your natural body type we’ll adjust up until your bloodwork and body mass reach healthy parity. You’ll see you also have a fluid intake count. I assigned you a water bottle. It is chipped and the number of times you fill and empty it will be tracked.”

“Er … okay.” It sounded a lot like what the school cafeteria did. Dad and Momma had called it “intrusive” and one of the reasons why they preferred to home school me, but it must work for some people because that’s the way they did it. But honestly the food was pretty gross – at the schools, not at The Farm – and actually eating it was a struggle on some days.

“I’m sorry that you don’t have much time to eat. First day or two for trainees can be hectic.”

I took that as a polite way to say, “Scarf your food. We have things to do and your time is not your own.”

I looked for a place to sit and sure enough the meal program wasn’t the only thing that reminded me of high school. There were cliques and they had closed ranks. It was no biggie but there was no empty table. That’s when I heard, “Over here McCormick.”

I turned and it was Dallas pointing to an empty chair. Jan and Jen were there too. I tried to put a bite of food in my mouth when Nurse Gilroy came up and handed me the magical water tracking bottle, explained how it was used and then she went off. Next time I tried to take a bit some food monitor woman came up and asked if I’d had the rules explained to me. I managed to get a bite of food in my mouth when Chief Jackson shows up and the vets stand up and I quickly follow suit … only to hear Jan and Jen snicker.

It is Cooper this time that says, “Take it easy McCormick. Sit and finish your food before someone else comes along.”

Swallowing I said, “Oh. Thank you. I thought maybe we were supposed to stand up when a Chief comes around.”

Chief Jackson rolls his eyes and says, “Don’t that make me feel all kinds of special. Sit down Trainee McCormick. And hurry up so you can feed that baby before he goes off like an air horn.”

I sat down while the three men walked off with Chief Jackson. Jan asks, “How you getting along?”

“Haven’t the foggiest. So far all I’ve done is give enough blood to feed a village of vampires and answered more questions than was on my college application.”

“Wait. You were in college?”

“Dual enrolled. It’s no big deal as I’d only managed to take some entry level courses like English Comp, math, Digital Competency, Consumer Responsibility, and that sort of thing. What have you all been doing?”

Apparently their turn at the clinic would be after lunch. They’d been doing intake and getting their schedule for the next couple of days. That gave me something to think about while I shoveled food as fast as I could. I managed to finish in good time, and I was ready to go when Nurse Gilroy came for me from wherever she’d been lurking.

We went straight to Supply and I found out there was a kind of uniform that all trainees wore. Which semester they were in determined the color of the uniform. Since I was a first semester trainee my uniform was orange. Bright, day-glo orange. Both the bottom and the top, socks, hat, and undershirt. I mean if I had painted my face to match, I would have looked like a funky pumpkin when I had it all on. The girl who signed my uniforms out to me said it was so in case I got lost I would be easier to find. That wasn’t what you would call comforting.

“Everyone is getting their winter togs on Sunday so you’ll sign for mittens, scarf, jacket, and a toboggan. You’ll also get long johns but I don’t know if they’ll be orange or something else. My first semester started in the Spring and we didn’t have them.”

“Uh … so what semester are you? I mean if it isn’t … er … like rude to ask or whatever.”

“Wow, they really did rush you guys through. First semester is orange, second semester is brown, if you are in a program where you are here a third semester then you get a green uniform with a black stripe on the pocket and sleeves. Staff wear all green uniforms with the Chiefs having various colored epaulettes depending on what training area they are in charge of.”

“So you are brown which means you are second semester.”

“Yep,” she said proudly. “I start interviewing for a work assignment next month.”

“Wow.”

When she realized I wasn’t being sarcastic she gave me a few pointers. “Try really hard to get along with everyone; even the ones you just know are going to wash out. One, they might wind up having a serious talent and be allowed to slide because of it … though that doesn’t have a whole lot of traction to it. Two. The Farm has a zero tolerance policy when it comes to fighting. You participate in a fight, even if you didn’t start it, then you get punished.”

Looking around I asked quietly, “What if they threaten my baby.”

Just as quietly she said, “You made enemies already?”

“Not on purpose. And not because I did anything. Maybe … er … the person will forget about me, but I’d prefer to know the rules up front.”

“Well if whoever it is attacks a kid - even if they are still a minor like you – they are looking at an arrest. When I say zero tolerance, I mean zero … and some things they have even less than that. And if they do it to a baby … holy geez I don’t even want to know what hole they’ll drop them in and walk away from. Just, I didn’t say this, there are a couple of Chiefs that … that can be a little rough. I’m not going to name names; just keep your eyes open and you’ll see what I mean as you new trainees start shaking out. And here’s another free piece of advice, keep your living space neat and clean at all times. The chiefs love their pop inspections.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, stepping back just in time for Nurse Gilroy to come back looking a little harassed.

“We need to hurry. I’m due at the clinic and I still need to get you over to Child and Family.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 9 (Part 1)

Child and Family wasn’t the big deal I was worried about it being. It was basically just an intake department to make sure that all my paperwork was in order and to see about continuing any assistance programs that I was already receiving.

“Are you sure we have all of your entitlements accounted for?”

“Yes ma’am. The only thing I received was room and board at the half-way house – contingent on staying in school, getting good grades, and participating in their volunteer work hours. My medical was covered by Medicaid. Everything else I paid for with the proceeds from the online businesses I operated.”

She looked at me then tapped something on her tablet that from upside down looked like the words entrepreneurial program. That didn’t sound bad to me and hopefully it might even mean I could make some credits to tuck away for the future. I let them fuss and cluck because it seemed to make them feel good and then they sent me back to my quarters with the admonition not to waste time. Sounded like an unspoken warning to unpack and clean up.

##### ##### ##### #####

I had the door cracked so I could keep an eye on what was going on in the hallway while I took care of Bam-Bam and then tried to take care of what else was mine to take care of. Chief Madison hadn’t overstated things by saying the cubicles were spartan. I had a narrow twin sized bed that did double duty as a long, narrow storage chest and as a sofa type thing. Then there was a shelving unit. One side was a small closet with a shower curtain hung to close it off. The other side looked like cubby holes stacked one on top of the other. I hung up my uniform pieces on the provided hangers … ones like hotels had that were connected to the clothing rod so didn’t come out … and then used the shelves to organize all our day-to-day stuff. Top shelf held Bam-Bam’s diaper bag which I took the time to replenish from the supplies in the buggy. Below that was my hygiene bag which I refilled with the stuff from Supply that I’d been given. Just because I could have refilled it from my stash in the buggy didn’t mean I should. I decided then and there to take advantage of what was given to me and keep the rest for back up and it has turned into an even better idea than I gave it thought to be in the first place.

I dug out my boots and socks and put them on the bottom shelf then moved them over to beneath the hanging clothes. Instead, on the bottom shelf I put my sewing bag. On the shelf above that one I put a supply of under clothes and something to sleep in if I got the chance to sleep civilized again. In the center shelf I put all of paperwork that I’d been accumulating for The Farm. I was hoping to find a folder or binder to organize it in but for the moment a shelf would have to do. Everything else I fit into the bed storage unit. The tub of food went in first after I put in the few odds and end that I’d collected. Next, I sat the footlocker of other supplies in beside it end to end. On top of the food tub I put the suit case of extra clothes and things like that. The end of the storage chest I put the neatly wrapped up rope, cord, and bunji cords, each in a self-sealing storage bag to keep them from unwinding all over the place. Over all of it I folded the tarp. The way I had things I would be able to tell if someone had gone through our stuff. I closed the chest, straightened the two narrow mattresses and then put on the bed covers. Then I rethought it and took the bed covers back off and folded them neatly on one end and left it to look plain but neat. Lastly, I pushed the buggy over to darkest corner of the cubicle and put Bam-Bam’s carrier in it to act like a bassinet. He was sleeping in it at the moment which gave me time to neaten up some bits of this and that that had fallen on the floor and to double check to make sure that I would pass a “pop inspection.”

As a living space it reminded me of a prison cell without the sink and toilet, but it was way better than what the homeless camp had come to look like right before we were swatted. Everything was drab and colorless but functional. Then I shook myself and told myself to stop thinking like a nutcase and just be glad there were four walls and a ceiling between Bam-Bam, me, and the cold. But speaking of bathrooms I needed to find one.

I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be walking around by myself, so I stuck my head out of the door only to practically come face to face with Chief Madison. “Oomph. Sorry Chief.”

She chuckled. “You’re fine. I see you were assigned quarters.”

“Yes ma’am.” I opened the door and she walked in, followed by another woman that I recognized as another Chief because of her uniform, and looked around.

“You’ve been busy.”

“Not much to be busy with but Nurse Gilroy said to use my time wisely and …” I shrugged and then picked up Bam-Bam who had started to wake up.

“Miss McCormick this is Chief Delray. She is in charge of overseeing the dorms where trainees with children live.”

“How do you do?”

She nodded and said, “Fine thank you for asking. Now let me ask if there is anything else you need.”

“Actually the bathroom would be really great.”

Both women chuckled in sympathy and then said that I might as well grab some clean clothes and whatever I needed to clean up with. “Mornings and after second shift the showers can get pretty busy so I suggest you take advantage of the lull. I’m not certain if the other new trainees will get their uniforms tonight or tomorrow during orientation, either way now that you’ve been issued yours you should wear it to show your designation.”

I knew better than to ignore that type of “suggestion” so I hustled to take care of business. The bathroom felt like an ice locker after I got out of the shower but I felt clean again which was as welcome as the cold was not. Bam-Bam was shivering too so I rushed us into clean clothes … me turning into a pumpkin and him into little boy blue. I’d fed him before I washed myself up so he was happy to snuggle into a clean sling that I had lined with an extra blanket and while I finished up with the Dyson hair dryer. I was combing lice oil into my hair that also doubled as a leave-in conditioner when a dozen females came in.

They stopped short to stare at me and since I couldn’t tell whether it was a friendly stare or not I started to quickly gather my things up to get out of their way. One of them said, “Relax. We don’t eat newbs around here.”

“Uh … sure. Thanks. Still, don’t want to hog the space. We’ll get out of your way.”

“You’re not in the way. My name is Danny. You came in with Jan and Jen.”

That stopped me. “Yeah.”

“Just to let you know. Some chicklet with an attitude got in their face. All three have extra chores coming.”

“Oh man. Um … was … I mean what …”

“Seems the chicklet with an attitude was griping because you were given extra special attention.”

“Oh puhleeze. Yeah, giving a gallon of blood and being led around and asked a million questions like I have only one braincell that sparks only half the time is real special.”

The leader of this particular pack relaxed and said, “All the trainees with kids go through it which was explained to Miss Tude after all three got their assignments. What did you do to that chicklet to get her so hot and bothered?”

In a straight voice I answered, “I live and breathe. Apparently that offends her. And thanks for the info.” I shook my head. “Next Mari is going to start trying to push the guys or use me against them somehow. None of us need that kind of trouble.”

“You talking about the soldier boys? Nah. Chief Jackson is in charge of those trainees and we don’t cross paths much except during meal times and that’s only so they can prove they can socialize with the civilized.” That’s when Bam-Bam squeaked. “Hey, you got a real little one.”

Bam-Bam came out for inspection, got called cute, and then I left in a hurry so they could take care of their stuff and I could get back to our room and decide what to do with the dirty clothes until I could figure out the laundry situation. I walked in to find someone had delivered a laundry pail and bunch of stuff for Bam-Bam. I cleaned up his carrier and then laid him in it to babble and blow bubbles on his fists while I finished my hair. It was basically just a long braid that I then wrapped in a bun on my head. After the bun was pinned in place, I covered it with a hair net that I had crocheted myself. I didn’t put on make-up because the cold had already made my cheeks and nose red and I didn’t want to look like a clown … a clown in a bright orange suit. All I needed was puff balls on my boots to complete the look.

More noise in the hallway and then yet another person stuck their head in and said, “Hey New Trainee …” she looked at the name plate on my door. “… McCormick. You’re gonna hear a bell in about five minutes and that’s our signal to head to the Dining Hall. Don’t forget your med card or they’ll make you jog here and back to get it.”

“Thanks.”

She nodded and I pulled myself and Bam-Bam together just in time to hear the bell and then follow a group of a dozen females back to the dining hall. All the kids were ambulatory, I was the only one with an infant. Having already learned the drill at the half-way house, and then at the homeless camp, it was no big deal for me to slide Bam-Bam’s sling to the side and help with the other kids when someone needed an extra hand. They looked at me suspiciously at first but since I didn’t make a case out of it, or pay too much attention like I was sucking up, they relaxed and things ran pretty smooth.

I was considering where to sit since they’d taken all the spaces at the table they’d chosen when I saw Jan and Jen come in looking kind of hang dog. I sidled near them and asked, “Wanna sit at the same table or am I persona non grata?”

“Word travels fast.”

I shrugged. “If people stopped talking the sky would collapse.”

Jen slowly started chuckling. “Yeah. Grab a table and we’ll fill you in.”

It was like I suspected; Mari considered me the wrinkle that pinches her backside for some reason. But all three had been drug across the carpet. Mari already had one demerit for her mouth on the train so she got double the extra chores.

We had stopped discussing Mari and had moved on to comparing our days when a shadow fell over me. I looked up to find Nurse Gilroy.

“Yes ma’am?”

She showed me a tablet with a graph on it and my name at the top. “You know what this tells me?”

“Uh … no ma’am.”

“It tells me you aren’t drinking enough fluids. I didn’t sign that water bottle out to you to decorate your room with. I expect you to fill it and drink it. Understand?”

“Er … yes ma’am.”

“Also, in the mornings prior to breakfast I want you to go to that table over in the corner. See it?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“A further review of your chart shows that Blake was prescribed liquid vitamins and you were also supposed to continue taking your prenatal vitamins. You’ll get both before first meal.”

Since she was giving me the same look Momma would when I left food on my plate all I could do was say, “Yes ma’am.” She nodded once and then marched off to the next person on her list.

Jan said, “Poor gatito. You’re gonna get it coming and going.”

“Tell me about it. Or better yet, tell me if you’ve heard what we are supposed to do tomorrow? And I hope it isn’t give more blood.”

“Maybe for us since we have health orientation right after breakfast, but I don’t know for you.”

The other chairs scraped back and we all grinned to see Dallas, Cooper, and Quiet Guy. Dallas said, “Can’t you three stay out of trouble?”

“Gatito wasn’t around and at least we set the record straight.”

Cooper said dryly, “So we heard.” He pointed his fork at me and said, “You stay away from that crazy chick. She’s some kind of ecofreak. She’s bent because you got a kid.”

“What?!”

“Keep your voice down.” Dallas said adding, “Her parents were supposedly big wigs in the Green Revolution. Both parents are gone … father in some kind of accident and mother was killed in an Antifa riot. Turned over to the grandparents who were just as crazy as the parents. Don’t know what happened to them or when or how she got picked for The Farm but that’s her background.”

Suspiciously I asked, “And how do you know all this?”

“Use your ears. The staff around here don’t exactly pay attention to who is listening.”

I said, “Maybe. They could also be doing it on purpose to set people up.”

The others at the table looked at me like I was suddenly interesting. “Well duh, they could be.”

“Very good McCormick,” Dallas said with a nod. “You might have a brain after all.”

A little irritated by his attitude I said, “Yeah, yeah. And maybe I’ve got my own camouflage that keeps me out of trouble. People have been calling me special needs since I was born. After a while you get tired of trying to prove you’re not what they want to believe you are and you let them think what they want and then use that to your advantage. It just really gets old sometimes and it would be nice if one or two people … or five … knew I had more smarts than a pile of recycled plastic.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 9 (Part 2)

What they would have said to that I’ll never know because suddenly Quiet Guy jumped and caught something that had apparently come flying at our table from another direction. Jan and Jen, already been on edge, pushed their chairs back and the guys looked disgruntled as well. Looked to me like bimbo girl was going to have to smooth the waters.

Acting young for my age I said, “Geez, little warning next time. You could have hit me or Bam-Bam. Not cool.”

The thrower of the package looked shocked. “Geez, I didn’t see the kid. Sorry.” It was a young curly headed guy not too much more than my age and he came over in a hurry. “Seriously. I … I …”

Smiling a little vacuously I told him, “Wow, don’t break something. An accident is an accident. No big. Just a warning. We’re newbs and kinda stressing is all. Life’s been … not terribly pleasant for a while. I’ve seen enough dead bodies, and bodies wishing they were dead, to last me a good long time, like maybe forever. We’re having a hard time decompressing and stuff. I guess I should apologize for snapping at you like that. You didn’t mean any harm.”

He finally grinned and said, “No. I didn’t. Uh … look … my name is Dan and I hang out with the people at that table over there most of the time. You guys wanna join us? We were gonna ask if you wanted to walk out to the fire ring for some cocoa.”

With a naughty grin I asked, “You guys get points for being nice to the newbs?”

He blushed … an honest to goodness blush on a guy … and said, “Well, not exactly but it doesn’t hurt either. So … you wanna?”

“Why not? But if it gets too cold, I’ll have to come back in. Bam-Bam is a muscle man but neither one of us is loving this cold.”

Dan laughed and said, “You think this is cold? Man have you got something to learn.”

The look on my face broke the remaining tension and our crew – and that’s what we’d become whether we’d intended to or not – decided to see what the whole invitation thing was about.

The cocoa was good and warm, but the cold of the night was uncomfortable, and it started hitting me just how different everything was. The weather, the landscape, even the stars in the sky looked different … like there was more of them than I’d ever seen before. It was a lot to take in.

I must have been half asleep on my feet because I almost didn’t notice the tap on the top of my hand. It was Quiet Guy. He tapped the jacket I was wearing and I woke up enough to say, “I’ll get used to the cold. I’m just not loving it the way some people are. The girl in Supply said everyone will be getting their winter stuff next week.”

Then he pointed to Bam-Bam and I said, “No, he’s a good baby and only wakes up once during the night most of the time. Sometimes not at all. It isn’t sleep it’s … I don’t know … like I told Dan, just a lot of new and having a hard time decompressing. It’s quiet. I’m not used to it. Quiet isn’t a bad thing, just not something I’ve had much of lately.”

Then he tapped his watch and when I looked around I saw that people were starting to go back towards the dorms. “There’s a lights-out time?”

He nodded then pointed to his watch and I saw it was almost 9 o’clock. “Nine o’clock is lights-out?”

He shook his head and point to his watch and then held up two fingers.

“Eleven o’clock is lights-out?”

This time he nodded but used his hands to motion that it was still time to go back inside. That’s when Jan and Jen showed up and said, “We’ll walk with her. Dallas said you’re assigned to something called breakdown.”

Quiet Guy nodded and then just stood there until the three of us started walking back to the dorms. I told the other two, “If you wanted to stay I could have walked myself.”

“Nope. Guess you didn’t see Mari talking to people and them giving you the squinty eye.”

“I guess not,” I said troubled. “Any idea what they were talking about?”

“She’s spreading your story only making you out to be a slut that tried to take some old guy to the cleaners and got caught at it.”

“Great. Just what I need.”

“We’ll set the record straight.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way but I don’t know if you know what the real story is. And whether you do or don’t I don’t want you to get into any more trouble, especially not because of me. Let Marigold Johnson dig her own hole and fall in it. Plus, if her parents really were important then until we see what kind of support she’s going to get from people around here, staying careful and quiet is better.”

They took what I said without giving me any grief in return and instead said, “For the record why don’t you give us your story firsthand?”

I nearly told them to stuff it, but they deserved to know since they’d stood up for me. So I told them.

“Damn girl, you were only fifteen?”

“Almost sixteen and now I’m seventeen. It happened. It’s over with. Time to move forward and hopefully do it fast enough to keep the past from taking over my future. I just don’t get it. What’s Bam-Bam got to do with Mari resenting me drawing breath and polluting her precious planet?”

“Girl … she’s pissed at you because you are convenient but it’s not really about you but about what she can’t have no more.”

“Did I miss the part of that where it made sense?”

“Sweety … she’s fixed. Marigold is not going to seed anyone’s garden.”

I looked at the two women and said, “But … they don’t let you do that kind of stuff anymore until you’re older.”

“Mari is twenty-two. She had it done on her eighteenth birthday as a gift to Gaia or something like that.”

“Seriously?”

“She was bragging about it before you were picked up.”

“I thought Gaia worshippers were all earth-mother types and all about the family, just a back to nature type.”

“Naw; well some I suppose. You’ve got your militant types in every religion. Our mothers were middle of the road but some of the people they’d hang out with every once in a while were as nutty as the KKKers and the Panthers put together, but were as organized as M-13 and just as willing to draw blood over it. And the news said the last three storms doing the damage they did has brought out some of the wackos saying the storms are Gaia taking revenge or Karma or some crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “Oh really? Well I heard the storms are being caused by either the Russians or the Chinese that have figured out how to weaponize the weather and they’re setting us up for a one-two punch. So my crazy beats your crazy by a couple of deuces.”

All three of us started laughing for absolutely no reason.

“Girl you are too much.”

After our laughing had petered off Jen added, “All kidding aside, just watch your back. That girl does not believe in live and let live.”

They walked me all the way to my door, stuck their head in to compare my unit to theirs and said there wasn’t any difference except I’d had time to neaten things up. I passed along the warning about the pop inspections and they nodded their thanks and headed off to put their rooms in order since there might not be much time the next day.

I fed Bam-Bam and was in the middle of a diaper change when there was a knock. “Come in.”

It was Chief Madison. “Looks like you’re settling in.”

“Trying to.”

“Smooth move in the Dining Hall.”

I sighed. “Did I get a demerit?”

“No. But you saved Dan from getting one. He’s been warned about tossing snacks at tables instead of handing them out. This way everyone saved face and Staff didn’t have to get involved.”

“He doesn’t seem malicious on purpose just goofy.”

“That’s one way of looking at it. You have everything you need?”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you.”

“Tomorrow you switch off with the rest of the new trainees and you’ll get a tour of the facilities and orientation. You’ll do part of that with Cooper, Dallas, and Trahern. Is that a problem?”

I wondered why she asked when she could have just ordered me to. Carefully I answered, “No ma’am. They’re kind of sheep doggy but I figure they can’t really help it since they see me as younger, smaller, and weaker … with Bam-Bam on top of it.”

“Possibly. On the other hand I hear you helped Trahern at the clinic.”

“Trahern? Oh, you mean Quiet Guy. I guess. And it wasn’t fraternization like Nurse Gilroy was warning me of. I just met guys like him when I was on the street.” She gave me a questioning look and I explained, “There are a lot of vets amongst the Street People. There are so many they are almost like a separate category of Street People. Quiet … uh … Trahern is claustrophobic. I overheard some stuff in the clinic that explained why – or at least part of why – and it doesn’t change my mind. I don’t know why Dallas and Cooper are here but … uh … Trahern is probably here to socialize him and normalize him as much as possible to keep him from becoming one of those too many vets on the streets.”

“Dallas and Cooper are both amputees.”

“Yeah, I saw but I mean besides that.”

She grinned and said, “They’re being ‘socialized and normalized’ as well … just they are also receiving job training so they can develop work arounds that will help them remain in the field they were trained in. All three men were on the same unit at the VA hospital in Pembroke Pines. Chief Jackson is former military and he’s helping them reintegrate into civilian life.”

“Sounds messy.”

“Is messy, or has been when we’ve taken such cases on in the past.”

Then it clicked. “And you want me to let them go on treating me like a little sister, or mascot or something like that, so you can measure how well they are socializing.”

“Caught that did you? I told Gilroy she was underestimating how quickly you would pick up on it. Are you agreeable?”

“Sure. So long as the guys don’t find out and get all insulted. And so long as no one causes trouble by screaming sexual harassment or something. I’m not fraternizing, we’re just … socializing or whatever you want to call it.”

“If you are referring to Miss Johnson …”

“Not just her but yeah … she’s already attacked Jan and Jen with me as the weapon of choice. Mari could real easy pull the same thing only worse with the guys.”

“There’s always a risk in this life but if you color inside the lines on this, nothing Miss Johnson says will have an effect for anyone involved.”

“Last thing I want to be is a nail someone thinks they need to hammer down. I have Bam-Bam to think of.”

Changing subjects she said, “You are testing out rather higher than expected academically. Do you have plans for college?”

“Already taken some college courses by dual enrollment. The problem isn’t can I do it, it is how to do it. The idea of college is great, and I like learning. The reality of what it can give you at what cost isn’t always the same thing. Momma said college was as much an experience as it was a means to an end. She and Dad wanted me to go. But now? I don’t know. There is no way for me to suddenly have the same experience I would have if … if my life hadn’t changed so much and Bam-Bam hadn’t happened. Now I have to figure out how to get to a place college will actually pay off in the long run and still take care of Bam-Bam and me along the way. The half-way house was supposed to be what gave me the cushion to save up so I could at least get my Associates Degree in something that I could get a job in. That’s out right now. What I need to do right now is take whatever job corps I fit into, and use it to carry us a little further down the road.”

She nodded. “You’ve got potential. And your test scores are coming along nicely. I’ll continue to check in on you and we’ll see if we can turn that potential into something marketable.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She left and I heard her knock on a door a little further down the hall and realized that she probably had a list of trainees she “checked in on” as part of her job duties.

There was some kind of squabble over bed time or snack time or something like that but it was quickly shut down. No more crankies to be heard at that point and I noticed the area closer to me was quieting down faster than rooms I heard further away. At 10:30 pm the lights suddenly went dim though not completely out. I climbed into what I used for pjs and debated leaving Bam-Bam in his “bassinet” but I’d gotten used to co-sleeping so picked him up and climbed into the bed that I’d finally made. Then I had to get up and put my jacket on. After that I was finally warm enough though I wished for the comfort of having our tarp cocoon to keep our warmth in.

I told myself to get over it and to go to sleep, that five a.m. was going to come early. Breakfast started at 6 am and I wasn’t sure if the bathroom was going to be crowded or not.

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 10 (Part 1)

Holy smokes that first full day at The Farm was full of so much information that I had to clean out my ears at lunch and dinner just to make room for the food I was eating.

I’d been smart to choose bathroom over sleeping in. By the time I was finished and heading back to my room there was a line forming. In the room I added a t-shirt under my uniform and then packed a bag of baby stuff that I put in the sling along with Bam-Bam who wasn’t exactly thrilled to have his own relaxed breakfast cut short so I could go try and grab mine.

Breakfast was granola and fruit bits, a cup of milk, and a hard boiled egg … and the ubiquitous and totally disgusting smelling supplements as ordered by Nurse Gilroy. I saw her swooping around on her broom reminding people of things so I made a point of adding the word “supplements” to my dietary sheet and checking it off. She swept by with a nod in my general direction and it left me feeling sorry for whoever she swooped down on next.

I had finished eating and was filling up my water bottle when Chief Jackson’s dulcet tones blasted from the intercom. “The following trainees are to appear in my office at 0730. Cooper, Trahern, Dallas, Markham, Lincoln, McCormick.”

I looked around to see if there were any other people named McCormick and couldn’t figure a way to find out until I was able to get Nurse Gilroy to slow down long enough.

“No, you’re the only McCormick at the moment. Chief Jackson’s office is two buildings north of the dorms. You can’t miss it. It is immediately adjacent to the motor pool.”

“Thank you.”

She seemed surprised for a moment then said, “You’re welcome.” Before speeding off once again.

Since it was seven o’clock I decided to take the time to make sure I understood the directions and went in search of the meeting location. I needn’t have worried because as Nurse Gilroy had said, it was pretty obvious; plus, I saw the guys standing there with two women who were, upon closer inspection, wearing the uniform of people in their third semester.

I quietly walked up but stayed quiet. The guys didn’t look very chipper, in fact Cooper was looking a little cranky. The two women trainees were intimidating. I tried to not draw any attention though looking like a bastard cross between a pumpkin and a circus clown didn’t exactly let me be invisible. The quiet was not comfortable but I pretended not to notice … and not to notice I was being particularly ignored by everyone at the same time.

Chief Jackson finally showed up and said, “Well, well, well. Not only on time but early. Let me see those boots McCormick.” I stuck my foot out and he nodded. “Are they waterproof?”

“As I could make them,” I answered since I really didn’t know for sure.

“Well that might work in sunny Florida, but it isn’t going to cut it here on The Farm. If your feet get wet, I need it reported. Understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Same for the kid.”

I didn’t like people talking to me like I wasn’t doing right by Bam-Bam but I didn’t snap at the Chief but just repeated, “Yes Sir.” He gave me a look like some of my feelings must have been showing but didn’t say anything about it.

“Alright Trainees here is how it is going to work. Cooper, Dallas, Trahern … you’re with me for orientation. McCormick, you’re going with Lincoln and Markham. Don’t give them grief. They’re Senior Trainees in my department and you are their Fall Project prior to graduation.” The two women kept their faces blank, but their eyes told me they weren’t thrilled with their assignment. “You make it through your Probation and they get a good job slot. Got it?”

All he got from me was another, “Yes Sir.”

“Good.” Turning to the two women he added, “As you can see she’s already been issued her uniform and she’s also been to the clinic. Give her the tour but don’t lose her in the woods yet. I’m not sure what her skill level is and she hasn’t acclimated.”

With that he ignored me and took the guys off. I turned to the two women and asked, “So, should I apologize?”

“For?” one of them responded.

“You getting stuck with me.”

I could see she wanted to give a smart answer but the other one point-blank said, “I’ve heard your story.”

“You sure? Or have you only heard what a certain person wanted you to hear? Because I can answer any question you might have but if you automatically think I’m lying then it isn’t worth wasting our time over.”

About that time Quiet Guy comes strolling back up and just looks at me.

“What?”

He just keeps looking.

“I need a clue. I can’t read your mind you know.”

He sighed and like it hurt said, “You … him … okay?” It sounded like he was gargling glass and gravel at the same time but I could understand what he was saying. Behind him I just got a glimpse of Cooper, Dallas, and Chief Jackson looking way more surprised than is healthy before backing up real fast.

“Yeah I’m okay. Have my jacket and I put another layer on. I added a blanket to the sling so Bam-Bam will be warmer too. Thanks for asking but don’t get in trouble by holding your group up.” When he kept staring I said, “Honestly, we’ll be fine. Have to get used to it sooner rather than later anyway.” Then he pointed to my feet. “Yeah, Chief Jackson said to keep my feet warm. I got it already. I won’t go puddle jumping or anything else stupid like that.” He gave me another look that said something and nothing and then turned and went back down the trail.

He was out of earshot before I felt brave enough to snort and mutter, “Sheep dog.”

I turned to the two women and asked, “Can we get a move on before the guys come back because they think I need a Nanny or to be put on a leash?”

They turned without a word and I got the message that I was to follow them. We were walking for about ten minutes when they both turned around and said, “So, you have a kid.”

“Yeah. His name is Blake but I call him Bam-Bam because … because that was my Dad’s nickname when he was little and his proper name was Blake too. I’m adopted … I just wanted … anyway, that’s … whatever.” I knew it wasn’t going to be fun to have to answer the same questions over and over but I hadn’t realized how angry and sad it was going to make me either. I might have to answer some people but I wasn’t sure whether these two women qualified for that.

“He’s little.”

“Yeah.”

“Where’s his old man?”

“He doesn’t have one.”

“Sure he doesn’t.”

Grinding my teeth I said, “Legally he doesn’t. I made sure they stripped his parental rights away. And no, I didn’t get knocked up on purpose or on accident … I didn’t get to choose, and it happened, and yes that means what it sounds like it means. But the guy was sick … dementia … and didn’t know I was who I was … his wife’s step-granddaughter … and didn’t even remember what he did. Where he is now or how sick he has become I don’t know … none of my business just like we’re none of his. And Ree-Ree … my step grandmother … is out of the picture too but only because family court assigned me a guardian ad litem that was sympathetic and helped me to get shed of that whole mess. I was forced to live with Ree-Ree because my parents both died … Dad was a cop shot in the line of duty and Momma died of cancer not long after that. My parents were my adoptive parents … I was in foster care from birth until I was two and no one wanted me because I had a lot of stuff wrong with me. My womb provider didn’t think I was worth the trouble and dumped me in a trash can right after I was born. I’d go back further than that for you but since no one was able to find out who rented their womb out to me I can’t. The End.”

“They didn’t run your DNA?”

“They tried but no one in the system matched. That means that they were living undocumented or might have been a tourist or some other reason that doesn’t mean anything more than the first two.”

I just stood there waiting for their next question when the first one suddenly just shrugs and said, “Life sucks then you die. At least you ain’t whining about it. More than I can say about some. So … this place is the garage. Do you know how to drive?”

It was like the rest of it was just forgotten or hadn’t even happened. It caught me a little flat-footed but I did my best to keep up from that point forward and not have the attitude they’d apparently been expecting.

“Not on auto-pilot. They said I didn’t trust the system enough and took over control too often for too long. I can drive off-road though and I can also drive things that aren’t pre-programmed … like mini-haulers, hoverboards, uniwheels, and stand up scooters … I just haven’t in a while because first I was pregnant and now because those things don’t exactly come with side cars with car seats.”

“Being able to drive something that isn’t pre-programmed would be good. Not many newbs from the city can. Some rural kids can but most trainees come from urban areas where it’s nothing but magnetic track after magnetic track.”

“Should I mention it to someone?”

“We’ll mark it in the comments section on your orientation form. What about tech? You got skills?”

“I can operate them, and trouble shoot but I’ve no use for VR or VR heads. I lost a cousin to that and don’t want to repeat his mistakes.”

The woman I finally identified as Lincoln said, “I would tone back the way you say that. We’ve got a couple of former VR addicts this semester and they’re kinda touchy on the subject.”

“Okay … or … er … should I say yes ma’am?”

Markham snorted, “Not to another trainee and don’t let any of the others make you believe you have to. To the Chiefs and other staff … especially those in Admin … it would be … polite.”

“Manners don’t cost so I’ll use them. And I’ll remember to be a little more gentle with my opinions.”

Lincoln said, “You don’t need to be a doormat. Just remember that we’re all here because if we weren’t we’d be in a worse spot … some trainees would be in a lot worse spot.” She lifted the bottom of her jeans and instead of a leg there was a titanium post that was attached to a shoe.

“Cooper and Dallas are amputees. Were you military?”

“No. I didn’t realize how drunk the girl I was riding with was because I was even worse drunk.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. So as I said, we’ve all got a past or problem of some sort, some worse than others. The goal is not to let your past take away your future. So what’s it going to be McCormick?”

“Like I told Chief Madison, I’m here to earn my way so I can give Bam-Bam a future like my parents gave me.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 10 (Part 2)

Lincoln and Markham both nodded and then took me on the tour of the rest of The Farm, or at least in areas that were in the main groupings of buildings. There was the living area group … dorms, dining hall, staff apartments. A little further away were the various offices. Another grouping contained greenhouses and barns and just on the other side of them were the main fields where the food that supported those living on The Farm was grown. Another grouping was where the classrooms were maintained and that was also where the library and tech training went on. It is also where the gym was at though I was given to understand that physical training occurred all over The Farm in various formats.

“Time to head back to the Dining Hall. Got any questions before we turn you back over to Chief Jackson?”

“To be honest, yeah. Maybe other people know but I kinda got rushed along. I was told where I was going, I didn’t exactly get a choice. And I don’t want to seem ungrateful because I am … and I’ll also take whatever I’m given … but some idea of what I’ll be doing would be nice so I don’t look like an idiot.”

“You haven’t been through any kind of orientation?”

“Chief Madison gave us some on the mover, but it was more about the rules and not about what we’d actually be doing beyond taking tests to determine what training program we’d be going into. But what are the options? I’ll dig ditches if that’s what it takes, but I’d like to know if there is a chance for something else.”

The looked at each other and said, “Well, basically your first 60 days here is going to be … look it is going to be more about survival.”

“Like consumer math or life skills?”

“That’s definitely some of it but you can comp out of it by completing assignments correctly and quickly, testing out of stuff you already know … work ahead in the lessons you are assigned, score high on tests, that sort of thing. But there’s more to it than just book work. Think of the survival lessons as sustainable living practices.”

“Green practices.”

“Eh, that will be covered but not the politics associated with it. What they are going to do is try and teach ways that The Farm lifestyle can be replicated no matter where you go. It might be as simple as having a container garden on an apartment balcony or herb garden on the kitchen counter. In addition to that, you’ll have self-defense classes; and, depending on the skill you show and the program you are in, they might take that further. You’ll also be taught some type of craft skill or skills. Cooking and preserving is considered another essential so that you aren’t dependent on soup lines and charity kitchens for homecooked meals. Some of it seems like BS but it might come in handy at some point so give it a listen and just do what they tell you.

“I’ll do what it takes.”

They nodded and we headed back to where Chief Jackson was waiting. Ignoring me he asked the two women, “Any problems?”

“None Sir. She can drive things that aren’t pre-programmed but other than that, nothing out of the ordinary.”

“No complaints?”

“Not even from the kid she’s hauling around.”

“Very well. I expect your report on my desk by end of day. I also want a draft lesson plan to begin after probationary month. Dismissed.” Then Chief Jackson turned to me gave me a look up and down then told me, “Sit down on that bench … out of the wind. Yeah.” He sighed before saying, “Rules at The Farm for Staff is that staff members of one gender are not to meet alone with trainees of the opposite gender. Problem is that you bunch are being foisted upon us out of sequence and there isn’t a female staff person available to mentor you.”

At my worried look he said, “Relax. I’m not about to pounce on you.”

“Er … I wasn’t thinking … um … along those lines. Even though I haven’t been here even 48 hours I get the feeling that there is zero tolerance for some stuff – fraternization being one of them – so If you weren’t trustworthy you wouldn’t be here. Just … does that mean I don’t have a place here? I mean the no female mentor. Because honestly, that doesn’t bother me. A grown up is a grown up is a grown up to me. Or … um … a chief is a chief is a chief. Or whatever. I just mean I’ll take what I can get so I can learn and earn.”

He shook his head and snorted. “Then you’re in luck because you are officially stuck with me as your advisor. Lincoln and Markham will act as your advisors for this semester but because we can’t meet in my office without a god-blessed chaperone you’re going to have to be flexible.”

“Yes Sir.”

He nodded. “Consider this is our first guidance meeting.”

“Er … like a Guidance Counselor at school?”

He pulled up a folding chair that had been leaning against the porch. “Yes and no. I leave the touchy-feely crap to the social and behavioral counselors you’ll be seeing. Those meetings – the frequency and duration of them – will be scheduled based on scores and needs as they are perceived based on testing and review by Staff. However, the flip side to that is if you need too much counseling there won’t be time for you to participate in training. You can’t complete training then you will wash out. So if you have any idea of faking it to get out of work … you better adjust your thinking.”

I wanted to say something back at him but managed to keep my mouth shut. At least I did until he said, “During these sessions you are allowed – and encouraged – to speak freely so long as you do it respectfully.”

“Encouraged? Okay, then for the record … I’m not only willing to work, I want to work. If I don’t start, I’ll never get to finish. If I don’t finish, then I don’t get a job. No job means I can’t provide for Bam-Bam. And also for the record, I don’t want trouble and I don’t want any drama. I just want a chance. I know I’m not entitled to one, so I know I have to earn it somehow. That means following the rules. Tell me the rules and that’s what I’ll do. As far as you being a guy … I mean man … and being my mentor or advisor or whatever it is called, I don’t have a problem with that. I know my … um … history makes people worried I might have some issues with males and stuff … but I don’t. I’m not sure why I don’t, I just don’t. My dad was a guy and I didn’t have any problem with that. My mom was female and that was just fine too. Being a certain flavor doesn’t … look, if you have something to teach me then I want to learn. Sorry for kinda talking myself into a corner. I just never got the whole gender issues thing. You live with what you get, and you don’t throw a fit. Being one flavor or another … look the way my Dad explained it is don’t expect me to take on something that isn’t any of my business and don’t try and make it my business just to have someone to fight your war. We all have our road to walk and shouldn’t expect other people to do the paving and fill the potholes for us. But with that comes that you don’t have to worry about me … you know … misreading things and thinking about … fraternization. I’m not looking for anything like that. Got way too much stuff going on to add that kind of complication. Uh … sorry … um ….”

He snorted again but seemed to have relaxed a little. “There is one thing and one thing only that I can’t abide.” I paid close attention as he meant me to. “Crybabies. You got a problem you talk about it or do something about it … don’t whine and cry to get your way.”


“Ugh. Not how I swing. Er … Sir. My folks made sure of that. My Dad was a cop and he wasn’t forever complaining about the crap sandwiches he had to eat when he busted his butt to make an arrest on some guy so it would stick only to have the prosecutor make some deal for whatever reason, or for the prosecutor to go after the little fish instead of the big fish because it was easier to catch the little fish. My mom … she died of cancer … but only a couple of times did I see her break down over how hurt and sick it made her to fight to stay alive. The sicker she got, the stronger she got. They … look … they could have picked another kid to adopt. I had a crapton of problems when they got me, but they never said or acted like they should have waited … they said I was worth it. I’m going to do the same for Bam-Bam. He isn’t adopted … but I’m going to show him how to get through life without being a baby about everything and expecting stuff you don’t earn. First off, you don’t do it alone. I’ve learned that six ways from Sunday. Second, you don’t always deserve the help you get. But third is that you always appreciate the help you get, work to earn it, and you always pay it forward by helping someone else to try and repay those that helped you. Chief Jackson … I just want a chance … I need a chance. But I don’t expect this to be easy or to get special privileges just because I have a kid or anything else like that. And I’m not going to … um … abuse what I do get. Please, just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.”

He sighed. “Kid you do run off at the mouth, but I hope for your sake and for your child’s sake McCormick that you mean what you say. The reality is you have some marks against you; however, everyone that makes it to The Farm does. But having a child to contend with … that’s not going to make your life … here or anywhere else … any easier. So here’s them rules you are wanting to learn … no excuses when you have to stay up because Junior is sick. No making excuses because you move slower. Er … I’m informed some allowances are to be made so you can … uh … feed the kid, but you’re going to need to learn to do it … er on the hoof so to speak.”

I nodded cautiously. “I already do that and Bam-Bam tolerates it 99% of the time. He was less than two weeks old when the hurricane wiped my world out. He doesn’t know any different than the way it has been, and I haven’t exactly been sitting around on a little poof chair knitting to fill my time.”

“Which is as good a time as any for you to explain what you meant on the Life Experience test that you learned stuff from living in the homeless encampment, including survival skills from those you call Street People.”

“The question about how had I been surviving since the storm?” At his nod I told him about being found by Mr. JR and some of the more obvious skills including the difference between salvaging and scavenging. “Salvaging is more about being proactive. Scavenging is reactive.”

“Explain.”

“Scavenging is … look, to scavenge is something that usually happens when you are desperate. Or maybe kinda haphazard. Like … um … like predators that steal the kills of other animals or like vultures that survive on roadkill. You just don’t have much choice … it is do and survive or don’t and die. Salvaging … that’s more like … hmmm … you take broken things and fix them or turn them into something useful regardless of what it started as … like trash to treasure. I’d rather salvage than scavenge. You just have to use commonsense and not do it at other people’s expense if you can help it. Salvage also helps use resources that might otherwise go to waste. Mr. JR was always on about us helping each other out. Not in some communal, fruity-loopy, kumbaya kinda way … but real stuff. But he also taught me I can’t help other people if I couldn’t help myself first … otherwise I’d wind up a burden to those I was trying to help.”

“Good concepts. But do you have more than concepts? Do you have any actual survival skills?”

I wanted to ask why he didn’t think that having a certain mindset was a survival skill but decided being a smart mouth and questioning the person that had gotten stuck with me wasn’t the best path to take. Instead I asked, “What do you consider a survival skill?”

“You tell me.”

I hate that psychobabble, reverse psychology crap but understood he was testing me. “Well there is the basic stuff like water, food, clothing, and shelter. Then there are the skills that help you get the basics. I learned how to find water … then I learned how to turn that found water into something I could actually drink that wouldn’t make me and Bam-Bam sick, or worse. And then I learned how to save that drinking water so we’d have some when our sources dried up or were too contaminated to be worth fixing. Food … that was harder than water, but I learned how to tell if food was too bad to eat. I learned there were things you could eat that most people … er … might think was gross.”

“Such as?”

“You can eat pigeons and rats … but only after they’ve been taken off the street, caged up for a while, and kept from scavenging dead stuff or being cannibals. I learned about the poisonous mushrooms and fungus and had just started to learn about the ones that could be edible but didn’t get very far with that one. Dollar weed is edible.”

“Excuse me?”

“Dollar weed … um … the leaf is kinda round and … well like a green silver dollar I guess. It grows in people’s yards and most people think it’s a weed. And it is a weed, but it is also edible. Then there are dandelions. Most parts of the big thistle can be eaten or used some way. And in Florida you can eat palmetto shoots. Proud Mary … one of the Street People … used to laugh at me and say I looked like a scrawny goat but Mr. JR said not to mind because a lot of the weeds had the kind of nutrition that I needed to keep me going so I could keep Bam-Bam going. But I never turned my nose up at found food either … and there was still some of that to be found in the wreckage for a while after the storm. But you have to fight the rats, roaches, and ants for it … and other people too sometimes.”

“Clothing?”

“Bam-Bam and I had a suitcase of stuff from where we had evacuated and once I got us back to the halfway house I got the rest of our stuff. But Momma taught me how to take care of our clothes and that’s also how I made money before the storm wrecked everything up. I made over and rehabbed stuff and then sold it online or traded it locally for stuff we needed.” I went into a little more detail about my sidelines and he nodded.

Then he said, “Shelter.”

I explained about the grocery cart and tarp Mr. JR had acquired for me the same day I’d been rescued. “But eventually I was able to cobble together sorta kinda tent poles that I could put up and take down every night and that I could then strap to the cart and carry with us from place to place. I figured out – by trial and error – the best way to use the tarp and sticks to make it the most comfortable I could. Comfortable didn’t mean soft, it meant dry and a way to keep the bugs out … and a way to keep wet and bugs out of our stuff at the same time.” I drew a pictured in the dirt to show the Chief the way I’d finally come to set things up. “It worked for us where we were at … I don’t know if it would still work here where it is so cold.”

“Well, at least you are smart enough to see it. Every season we have Trainees that wash out but then think they can just go make it in the woods on the few skills they already had or on the few they’d managed to learn. Every couple of seasons we lose one or two to exposure or stupidity.” He looked at me intently and said, “You’re going to have a chance not many Trainees get. You’re going to be working with the other Trainees under my authority … and those trainees already have significant survival skills. And what’s the face for?” he asked slightly irritated.

“Sorry Chief, but if I know them … I’m going to be sheep dog’d to death until I can prove myself.” I left it at that but Chief Jackson showed a perverse sense of humor and said, “It’s going to be fun to watch.”

 

[Mr Bill]

Thanks for the updates. Smart and common sense make a good pair.

 

[Lake Lili]

Thanks Kathy!

Lili

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 11

I was directed to go eat lunch and then to report to my room for inspection of my clothing to make sure I had what I would need for all the outdoor training I’d be a part of. As I walked to the mess hall I fed Bam-Bam his food first. He finished up while I was in the chow line but fell back to sleep rather than squawk to have his diaper changed. I figured it was the cold weather, but I knew he’d need one soon. I filled up my water bottle then took my tray over to an empty table and sat down to eat since I didn’t see any of my crew.

I had my mouth full of salad when something big and loud was dropped right behind me making me jump and making Bam-Bam shriek. I turned in a hurry and some poor guy was sitting on the floor looking stunned.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

He hadn’t answered me before some monitors ran over and started giving him grief over the mess. He said that he hadn’t tripped on purpose, that something had tripped him on purpose. They were getting snotty when I asked, “You got video cameras in this place? Why don’t you go for the instant replay to see what just happened?”

I turned back around and went back to trying to settle Bam-Bam and finish my food so I could get to my room to change him. Finally I gave up, and that’s when Nurse Gilroy flew in on her broom.

“You haven’t finished your food.”

“I’m going to take it with me inside the pita bread and finish it as I get to my next assignment. I’ll also refill my water jug.”

“Food is not allowed in your room without permission.”

“Then I’ll eat it out on the porch. Bam-Bam is in a mood and I’m not going to make everyone listen to him belly ache.”

“Is he often like this?”

“Rarely ever. But he’s human. He just doesn’t like being woken up by loud noises and that pot hitting the floor made nearly the entire mess hall jump.”

“Did you see what happened?”

“My back was to him. He says something tripped him on purpose … so something is probably a someone. I suggested instant replay with the security cameras but don’t know if they did. That’s how it was handled at the halfway house. Knowing someone was always watching and that you’d get busted for being immature and wasteful is what kept the girls from tearing each other apart over stupid, useless crap.”

I sighed as I realized the back of the bottom of my pants had gotten splattered. “Great,” I muttered. I looked at Nurse Gilroy and she finally nodded and moved so I could put my tray away after seeing that I really meant to eat the remainder of my lunch.

The cold out on the porch didn’t make Bam-Bam any happier and I had to juggle him and eat while smelling one of the reasons he was so discontent. I tried not to let it get me down. I’m the mom. Mom’s always seem to have to take care of crap … sometimes literally. Finally, I finished my food and then headed to change Bam-Bam. It was a messy one which meant a little extra cleaning. I just had him settled back down when the door to my room banged open without someone knocking which set Bam-Bam off again. It was Chief Jackson and he didn’t look any happier than Bam-Bam sounded.

“Does it have a volume knob?”

“It broke after too many people keep making unnecessarily loud and obnoxious noises. Um … Sir.”

Hiking his eyebrow up he held up one finger and I knew I had used up some of his patience I might have needed for something else. He understood from the look on my face I recognized I’d gotten a little too close to the line so he didn’t say anything else.

Instead he said, “Leave the door open. Lincoln and Markham should be here short …” He stopped in mid order when the two women showed up and then proceeded to nearly wreck the closet.

As politely as I could I said, “Easy … I’ll lay everything out on the bed. No need to make extra work.” They looked everything over and then made some notes on a tech tablet.

“Not bad,” Lincoln said with a nod. “But you need more layers. So will the kid. You we can fix. Don’t know about the baby.”

I thought and then asked, “Can I earn some fleece or yarn? I’ll take care of it from there.”

“We’ll look into it. You have a BOB?”

“A what?”

“Technically it is an acronym for bug-out-bag, but basically it is a survival pack of portable items used for emergencies. If you don’t already have one, you’ll earn pieces that can be used for a BOB by completing lessons … at least after completing your probationary period … both in the field and in the academic studies hall. Which is where we are heading next. We need to get you signed up for a work station and then get you started on some basic curriculum.”

“Come on,” Chief Jackson groused. “We don’t have all day Trainee.”

I still didn’t get the reason for his crankies but followed as quickly as I could. I came to understand that Chief Jackson’s crankies – at least as far as I was concerned – had more to do with his discomfort in being forced to mentor a “fee-male” my age than anything else; Bam-Bam only added to it. He had a reputation for toughness, and it made him uncomfortable to potentially have to modify his normal approach with me. I didn’t ask or expect him to be different with me than he was with other trainees, but I learned Chief Jackson was part sheep dog too which didn’t sit easy with the job he held.

I hustled to keep up with the Chief and Lincoln and Markham, all of whom were taller and therefore faster than me. The only good thing is the mild bouncing that Bam-Bam was subjected to put him to sleep like Dad used to say a ride in a car used to do to me. Nearly breathless I stepped onto the porch only a half-step behind the others and then followed them inside. We were in a reception area. There was an archway on one side that was labeled as the entry to the Library. French doors on the opposite wall led to a bunch of individual tech stations like we had at the high school.

“You can look later Trainee. Step up here and get registered.”

I turned to find a rather pinched-faced woman waiting impatiently. I stepped forward, and realizing what she needed, I put my hands on a scanner so they could get my prints so I couldn’t cheat by doing someone else’s work or vice versa. There was also a retinal scan so that I wouldn’t have to manually “turn the page” or page up and down; the computer would, after a little jiggering, move the page in time with the speed that I was reading. It would also register if I was suffering from eye strain and adjust accordingly. The one thing I nearly balked at was the VR headset.

The woman said, “If you prefer, you can go old school and use the off-line version of the curriculum.”

“I’ll test on screen and whatever else … I just prefer not to use a VR headset.”

“Why?” she asked bluntly.

“For the same reason I don’t drink or smoke or do drugs. Since I don’t know what my genetic predispositions are, I just prefer to avoid a potential problem on my end. If I have to, I will use the headset – I have used one before – but if I can do it some other way, I would prefer that.”

“Hmm,” she said while glancing over at the Chief. “Some testing will eventually require the use of a VR headset but for now I’ll assign you to a workstation and you can do your homework either on a tablet or by hand.” When she said “by hand” I pegged her for a techie because it was obvious she didn’t think much of doing things old-school … especially doing them that way by choice.

The Chief then got a squawk on the comm on his shoulder – it reminded me of the one Dad wore sometimes – and nodded at Lincoln and Markham before heading outside.

Markham said, “The rest of this afternoon you’ll be working on academics. Just complete what you can to the best of your ability. No one finishes everything … it is designed that way intentionally. Chief Clancy here will dismiss you when it is time and then you head to the Mess Hall and after that head to the auditorium for …” She glanced at her tablet then shrugged. “It doesn’t say but it is probably one of the introductory training films. Take our advice and don’t go to sleep or blow it off just because you might find it boring. Pop quizzes are a fact of life here on The Farm.”

I spent the rest of that afternoon rolling through a bunch of different lessons. It was actually pretty cool being allowed to go at my own speed. It wasn’t until I was breeching the physics and elementary calc level math that I was interrupted.

Chief Clancy tapped my shoulder and pointed to the hallway. Wondering what I had done wrong, since I knew that there was no way it was time to break for dinner, I followed her out.

She pointed to a screen on her desk. “You know what that tells me?”

“No ma’am.”

“It tells me you are going to be a pain in my backside.”

“Huh?”

“Trainee … what the hell am I going to do with you?”

“Did … did I fail the lessons?”

“No,” she said in mild disgust. “It means I am going to have to waste time trying to provide lessons for something you are likely to be the only trainee to need, lessons you will likely never use in whatever job you can get after graduating from The Farm.”

“Oh. Just … um …” Getting a glance at the library sign I got inspired. “Well, I won’t tell you what to do but you can always assign me books to read and report on … like biographies of mathematicians, histories of various subjects, technical manuals, stuff like that.”

“Excuse me?”

“I was homeschooled up until my mother died and then went to public high school. I was given a lot of independent studies because I didn’t fit … or at least I was when I wasn’t dual enrolled.”

She cut to another screen and then read it and then looked at me before nodding. “I will take it under consideration. For now, return to your workstation. I’m going to start mixing in Farm curriculum. Don’t waste this opportunity to get ahead.”

The Staff did that a lot, reminding trainees not to waste things … including opportunities. It was occasionally irritating even if they meant it for the best of reasons.

Back at my workstation I realized what Chief Clancy had meant when she said she’d be mixing in Farm curriculum. Some of it was a rehash of what Mr. JR and some of the other Street People had taught me, some of it was stuff about like the life skills Momma had tried to teach me after she realized how sick she was, some of it was biology which I’d had to get up close and personal with because of Bam-Bam. I was tired and seriously needing a break before my work station went dark telling me my work would be saved until my next study period.

Bam-Bam’s feeding had come and gone and I’d had to stop long enough to change him afterwards but other than that I hadn’t moved from the chair I had been sitting in and my butt was numb from all the not-moving and from how cold they kept it in there to protect all of the tech that was running all day long. From another room came the guys. They didn’t see me for a second then Quiet Guy grunted and the others stopped in surprise.

I walked over and said, “You guys look like I feel … brain all blendarized.”

Cooper nodded. “What flavor did you get?”

“Huh?”

He threw his chin in the direction of the workstation room. I answered, “Ugh. Revisiting high school and feeling pretty good then Chief Clancy gave me an oh so special preview of The Farm curriculum that made me once again realize that I don’t know how much I don’t know.”

Quiet Guy looked the question at me for an explanation. I did and repeated some of the reading assignments and accompanying question. Dallas snorted like a guy will sometimes and said, “Sounds like basic training. Look, you heading to the mess hall?”

“So I’ve been told. And from there to some kind of movie … the educational type if I’m understanding the warning to not waste …” Cooper and Dallas said, “the opportunity” in unison making me grin and realize I wasn’t the only one hearing that phrase on a regular basis.

We all started walking … or they walked and I played the sheep being herded along. Dallas cleared his throat and said, “We heard you’re going to be in our training group. You got skills we don’t know about?”

Deciding to be honest since it had come up point blank I answered, “No, not really. I think I just get to play y’alls chew toy to make sure you are getting the swing of operating in polite society again.

Quiet Guy gave an irritated grunt. I told him, “Don’t blame me. I get it. You’ll get it too if you stop being hacked off long enough to see they’re just doing their jobs. I figure we help each other out and we all come out ahead.”

Cooper grumped, “And how is some wet behind the ears girl child with a baby strung around her neck going to help us out?”

I shrugged. “It isn’t rocket science. I figure it is like the decompression training that my Dad had to attend at the Police Academy once a year. Kinda like teaching them how to leave the job at the station, know when to take things personally and when to let it roll off his back, counseling in case they needed some place relatively safe to blow off some steam, yada, yada. My Dad hated that crap but admitted that it helped some cops and was the only help some cops got because they didn’t have supportive families. As far as them sticking me with you … I figure they want you guys to succeed at whatever you’ve come here for and since I’m not the breakable type and don’t mind … at least not very much … you guys treating me like I’m some little sister or mascot or whatever, then they get reassured they are doing their job and you are doing yours of trying to fit back into society after being kicked around.”

“You guessing or did you hear something?”

“I was asked something and I told them it was fine with me as long as none of us got into trouble for crap we aren’t doing wrong … like that stupid fraternization stuff … and so long as we get some protection from certain people that might want to make it into something it isn’t to rattle our cages.”

Quiet Guy groaned. I turned sharply to look at him and caught the looks on the faces of the other two men. Quiet Guy started to break out in a sweat and was backing up.

“Uh uh,” I told him. “If I said something wrong clue me in so I won’t stick my foot in my mouth again.

Dallas whispered, “If I had to guess it was when you talked about rattling cages.”

I felt bad and then did the first thing that came into my head. I stepped over and grabbed the skin that showed between the cold weather gloves he was wearing and his sleeve. It made him jump and try to pull away but I’m stronger than I look.

“That was then, this is now. You aren’t back there, you’re here … with us. The pictures in your head? Well you aren’t there. There’s Georgia clay under your boots and it smells like turkey and gravy is what’s for dinner. You need something else to convince you of where you are at you can get a whiff of Bam-Bam’s diaper, but I wouldn’t suggest it … I think he’s trying to teeth and it is upsetting his stomach. He’s a little young for it but the development book I have said he isn’t too off the mark. The pediatricians said I got teeth early but it’s the only thing I did early. It took me forever to learn to walk and when I did learn I had to do it with braces on my legs … I clanked around like a miniature tin man until I was eight years old. Speaking of clanking and noise, my stomach isn’t the only one that is starting to rumble and grumble. C’mon. Let’s go get something to eat.”

It was like dealing with someone nearly comatose but Quiet Guy finally started moving in the right direction a little faster than a snail’s crawl. As we got to the head of the line, I had to encourage him to stick his med card in the slot and then basically took his slip and got him the first couple of food items on his tray. After that he started participating more but he was still kinda zonked. We checked out and I would have headed to one table but he maneuvered me around to a different table, one away from the windows and closer to one of the corners of the room. Cooper and Dallas covered us and began to relax as they saw that Quiet Guy was coming out of his fugue or whatever it was.

Then Jan and Jen saw us and came over. “Gonna be a movie after dinner. You assigned to go?”

We all nodded but I said, “Unfortunately. Because unless someone is yanking my chain the movie is basically just a lesson in another format.”

“What we heard too. So what have you been up to?”

“Getting our brain blenderized,” I said on a tired sigh as Bam-Bam had started to squawk again. “I better take him outside so you guys can eat in peace.”

But as I made to stand up Quiet Guy grabbed my arm. It was a little tighter than necessary, but I didn’t have time to complain because he loosened his hand as soon as he realized I was sitting back down. Lucky for our ears Bam-Bam was just getting tired of seeing nothing but my shirt and quieted down once his perspective changed. It was harder to eat that way but at least it was less earsplitting.

For a little squirt Bam-Bam wanted to have a lot to say about what I was eating. He kept making a grab for the tray and would watch my hand as it went from the tray to my mouth. I admit I was getting some frustrated when a girl at the next table over asked, “Your first?”

I nodded because my mouth was full … and my hands were full trying to handle Bam-Bam.

“He got a wubbie? Or a chew toy?”

Then it clicked and felt stupid. I swallowed and said, “In his stuff in our room.”

She laughed but not in a nasty way. “Doesn’t do a whole lotta good there. He’s a little young but I bet he is starting to teethe. Lucky you. So I’d start keeping whatever makes him happy with you.”

“Thanks. I’m Doe. I think your room is a couple of spaces over from me.”

“Yeah. And I’m Tracy. Give a holla some time when things ain’t this crazy. Gotta get to evening assignments.”

I waived as she got up and was followed by twin boys. I shook my head. “I can barely manage one Bam-Bam. I can’t imagine having two of him at the same time.”

Jan and Jen laughed, the guys just sort of ignored what was going on. And that’s how we finished our meal but afterwards I jogged back to our room to grab this little blanket with silky edges and the head of a duck sewn onto it. It was a gift from my guardian ad litem when Bam-Bam was born. She didn’t have to do something like that, so I’ve made a point of keeping it with us … and good thing too.

I thought the movie was going to be some boring “Welcome to The Farm” kind of thing explaining the rules all over again but out of habit I put a mini tablet in my pocket to take notes with. Good thing I did because apparently we were all done with the welcome-to-the-club type stuff and were heading hot and heavy into real lessons.

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 12 (Part 1)

I felt like I had when Proud Mary was in her right mind and in the mood to teach me stuff. The movie on the vid screen was about the foods that were available to forage during this time of year around The Farm. I was really into it but glancing around I saw a lot of glazed over looks and those that weren’t glazed over were looking grossed out or confused or when they covered the parts about hunting animals, outrage and anger like it was some kind of horror movie they hadn’t expected to have to watch.

I was just thinking that food was food and the hunting and fishing stuff didn’t bother me because I was definitely a carnivore though I hadn’t had a lot of scope for it since my parents died since the places I had lived or gone to school leaned heavy in the opposite direction.

Bam-Bam had finally crashed and burned chewing on his duckie so it was easier to take notes. In November and December we’d be experimenting with identifying and using the following things: persimmons, acorns, Jerusalem artichokes, roots like burdock and dandelion and sassafras, wintergreen and chickweed for greens, prickly pear fruit, sumac berries, beauty berries (I used to think those things were poisonous just like the sumac), black walnuts, and oyster and brick top mushrooms. We were told in no uncertain terms to not experiment on our own until we’d been cleared by the field advisors who would make sure we could identify the plants correctly and wouldn’t get poisoned or dead from eating the wrong thing.

The film was just an overview and Chief Madison then came to the podium.

“Welcome to The Farm lifestyle. Your focus while you are here will be Accountability, Sustainability, and Profitability. In other words … self-discipline and learning how to financially support yourselves in today’s changing environments so that you aren’t a drain on society’s resources. I can see by the look on some of your faces that you are looking for things to object to. Get over it or you know where the exit is. Some of you are going to be shown that exit whether you want to be or not. Too bad. Some of you may have noticed we already have faces missing. We’ve already had the first shake out of the semester. Trainee Jorge Perez has washed out after evidence was found that he intentionally tripped another Trainee causing a waste of food. Take heed to this, when we say zero tolerance, we mean zero tolerance.”

I had sat in the back in case I needed to make a quick exit because of Bam-Bam but the very back row had already been filled. There must have been some shuffling at some point because when I sat no one I knew had been behind me. Suddenly a guy’s voice hissed in my ear, “People who squeal get dead … and so do their brats.”

They obviously were trying to intimidate me or something, but I knew how to deal with them. There was a time to fly under the radar and a time to make sure a light gets shined. I turned around and said loudly enough for a couple of the monitors to hear, “And people who make death threats against babies aren’t exactly what you would call mentally stable.”

Chief Madison decided to make a point and said, “Is there a problem Trainee McCormick?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Explain.”

“Apparently I ‘squealed’ about something and people who do that get dead … and so do their babies.”

No one around me had given thought to the possibility that I would make what was said public, and do it so quickly. The Chief herself just kind of blinked and then nodded at the monitors who stood frozen for a moment before going to all the doors and locking them and standing in front of them. The Chief then said something into her comm link and from a door behind her six people entered … all of them obviously heavily armed. As one of them stepped to the podium the others stationed themselves up and down the aisles. I could see the guy at the podium had a badge on his chest.

Looking big, beefy, and constipated he said, “I thought I wouldn’t have to make this kind of obvious display but apparently we have a couple of dumbasses in this group.” There was some shocked muttering and I was tense. It is never good when security is that sure of themselves that they can talk that way. “Bring the vids online.”

I hadn’t noticed that they were filming us while we were watching the vid. Even looking for the cameras I couldn’t find them. The security guy was touching the screen to fast forward the vid and then tapped a couple of times to zoom in on where I was sitting. I looked even more wore out than my mirror was telling me but at least it showed I was paying attention and taking notes. Then a guy directly behind me leans forward. The guy taps the screen again bringing me and the guy into sharp focus and bringing the sound online. Everyone clearly hears what he says and the security detail descends on him, takes him into custody so fast that it is obvious they’ve got a lot of practice. He gets dragged away despite his protests and things get a little noisy until the guy with the badge yells.

His voice is whip fast and hard and he knows how to use it. “Shut the **** up and let me inject a little reality into your lives. This is not grade school or daycare. This is not a vacation. All of you were heading fast and hard to the bottom of the barrel in life. For various reasons the powers that be decided to offer you a chance to avoid that fate. I don’t see it myself. I look at your files and see a lot of crapheads or useless wonders. If you have potential, you are going to have to prove it. And thanks to the actions of some of your fellow trainees … now former fellow trainees … you get even more extra special attention. Fact one, former-Trainee Jorge Perez who was evicted this afternoon was dropped off with his belongings at a transportation hub. Where he goes from there and how he does it is up to him. Fact two, the dumbass we just escorted from this room is Jamie Perez and Mr. Perez is not going to be dropped off at a transportation hub … he is going to be booked and brought up on criminal charges. The vid evidence will be turned over to the courts and they’ll be deciding Mr. Perez’s immediate future, post haste.”

There was more muttering but it stopped when the man brought is hand down loudly on the podium. Bam-Bam shrieked at the sudden loud noise and Quiet Guy jumped two rows and wound up sitting beside my chair in the aisle. The room monitors noted it but didn’t stop him. Cooper and Dallas glanced my way with a look on their faces that said to stay calm.

“Now let’s get one thing clear ladies and gentlemen, and we all know for some of you I use that term loosely; I want there to be no question from this point forward. You are being observed. You are being filmed. Your voices are being recorded. There is no place you can get away from this except in your room and in the toilet and trust me we are even monitoring you there. Even in the fields and forest surrounding The Farm there are security cameras and features for monitoring Trainees and Staff. We know what you eat. We know what you drink. We know what you study, how much, when, and how fast you complete assignments. We know when you are being honest and when you are lying or cheating … and when you are trying to game the system in any way. We know who you associate with, and just as importantly we know who you don’t associate with. Your words, actions, and even facial expressions will be reviewed to determine whether you are kept on until graduation, or washed out. What you say and do can and will be used against you … and potentially even in a court of law if you insist on being a complete **** up. You agreed to all the above when you signed your docs and entered the gates. If you have decided you are too big a ***** to follow the few simple rules you’ve been given get the **** out now and stop using resources other Trainees are choosing to use wisely. And for those of you with kids … just remember you are responsible for them and their actions; their screw up is your screw up. If they get in fights it is the same as if you get in a fight. If they steal … well you hopefully get the message. You also don’t get to use them as an excuse not to follow the rules as stated, or for any other reason either. However, I catch anyone … and I mean ******* anyone … in any way, shape, or form threatening a kid or abusing them and I will personally rain down on you a kind of hell I promise you do not want to experience. I don’t give a flying **** if you like someone or not, whether it is a Staff person or another Trainee, you will at least pretend to treat everyone with respect. I will wash your ass out and leave you on the side of the road crying before I put up with any more of this crap. I better have damn well made myself understood. Your belief in me or my methods are immaterial at this point. You either participate with success being your goal or get the **** out.”

After one last death ray glare he left the stage and it was like he’d taken most of the oxygen in the room with him. You could have heard a pin drop. People weren’t even moving their feet. Then Bam-Bam pulled a baby with an upset tummy and bugled from his bottom. I winced and sighed but then saw that Quiet Guy was trying not to laugh. It was so odd for some reason that I said, “Bam-Bam says excuse me.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 12 (Part 2)

There was a little snickering by a few but there was still a lot of tension until Chief Madison sardonically said, “I’m sure his show of manners was appreciated by one and all.” She gave everyone a moment to relax then said, “If you were wondering who is at the top of the food chain around here you now know. The gentleman just explaining the facts of life to you is retired-Judge Marshall Haygood. He is the majority stockholder in The Farm and owns the land that it sits on. The Haygood Family Foundation is the funding body for The Farm and several other charitable organizations in this area. The Farm receives neither state nor federal funding so is therefore not … constrained … by certain regulations. Trust me when I say this had better be the only time Judge Haygood feels the need to get personally involved.”

She then segued back into the lesson like the drama hadn’t just occurred. Even my brain was sore and tired when she was finished. I was in the middle of feeding the bottomless pit when we were dismissed. I tried to cover up and put my coat on at the same time and was helped by Quiet Guy who then just stood there until I was loaded up and ready to go.

In a low voice I said, “Maybe you should just go. I don’t want to make anyone a target or get them in trouble.”

In a gravel on glass voice he said, “Baby.”

“You’re staying because of Bam-Bam?”

He gave a small nod. I thought about it and responded, “Fine. Just don’t get in trouble. I’m not completely helpless. It wasn’t exactly utopia living at the halfway house with nothing but hormonal females as company but an extra set of eyes to keep me from being blindsided is appreciated.”

He didn’t exactly nod but we understood each other, and he then herded us to the exit but wouldn’t let me go through first. I figured this was the new normal until things calmed down and let him do what I guess he thought of as his job. Or maybe he was paying back my support for him. I’ve never asked, and he’s never sat down and had a conversation about it. Not that we really have long drawn out conversations; we understand what we need to understand and that’s enough.

As soon as we were out of the building and out in the open, I was surrounded … by the rest of the crew. We walked without talking about anything much beyond trying to figure out how learning to eat like a squirrel fit into being trained to get a job. There weren’t any conclusions and we eventually split to head to our rooms; first the guys peeled off and then Jan and Jen walked me to my room.

“Keep the door locked at all times unless there is a Staff person in there. Always check before you open the door … open it slowly and carefully just to be on the safe side. You get into trouble you find a Staff person pronto, not just one of those third semester Trainees but an actual staff person. This ain’t the kiddy leagues no more Doe. This place ain’t exactly what we were led to believe but it is still better than the alternative. Just stay chill until we’ve got a better handle on things. We’ve got your back, just don’t make our job harder than it needs to be. Got it?”

“Got it already,” I told them trying not to be cranky about the whole situation. “Look, I know you think I’m a minnow but I’m not completely helpless. But there’s Bam-Bam and I’m willing to throw in to … to try and create a social network kind of thing. But I’m no charity case, it has to be mutual. So … if you or the guys need something … you know?”

Jan and Jen looked at each other then said, “You good at the school stuff?”

“Math?”

“More than just math but that’s a start.”

“Yeah. I got by okay.”

“Good ‘cause we all left that academic studies building feeling like we were trying to recover from a three-day binge. What they think I know about physics I don’t figure how.”

“You like roller coasters?” I asked.

It was a weird question but they both nodded. “Then you know about physics and stuff. If you’ve ever driven a car, shot a gun, or thrown a knife it’s the same thing. All studying it does is put the experience of physics into a formula. You’ve got gravity, inertia, acceleration, and junk like that.”

She had a doubtful look on her face but said, “Okay, you explain it to us that way and we’ll try and understand it. I need this worse than I needed the GED I got when I dropped out. It’s been too damn long ago for me to remember this stuff if I ever even learned it the first time around.”

I rolled my eyes. “You aren’t Grandma Methuselah and you aren’t as stupid as you try and play at sometimes. I bet you have more in your memory banks than you think. Give me a holler when you want something.”

Jen nodded and added, “We are supposed to get our next two weeks of schedule sometime tomorrow. Let’s work ‘em out at the next meal time. For now, fumigate the noise maker and see about hitting the hay early. You don’t look so good.”

“I’ve never been a beauty queen. And this cold weather sucks. A shower will help.”

“Uh uh. Not tonight. You wait until things cool down and see if people are going to follow the rules first. Cameras in the shower room or not, that’s a good place to get jumped. And just remember, you got four walls and a door to keep people out … but you ain’t got no ceiling. Just stay alert.”

“You are not giving me a happy, cuddly feeling.”

“Good,” they both said at the same time. I smiled despite wanting to call them jerks. Because they weren’t really being jerks but more stress I did not need to feel. Buy hey, what are friends for.

They wouldn’t leave until I went in the room and then said everything was fine. I wanted to dish a little bit of snark monologue but they’d been right about fumigating Bam-Bam; man did his diaper stink. I was wondering what I had eaten to cause it when I noticed there were a couple of piles of stuff on the bed.

First stack was the neatest. And I quote, “Do not make the extra work I’m putting into you a waste of time. Chief Clancy.” Well wasn’t that special. I never did warm up to that woman. She would go all rainbows and flowers over some of the Trainees completing certain assignments but for the majority of us it is like we were never good enough, fast enough, whatever; and it didn’t matter what level we were on. You were either her “project” or you weren’t and if you weren’t you might as well give up trying to hear anything beyond the most basic of satirical responses. I didn’t know it at the time, but she acted like she resented those of us that could work outside of her pre-planned timeline of lessons. One time she told me that if I was as smart as I was testing then I shouldn’t have been in the situation I was in, like there had to be some fatal flaw in my character that had created the events, that I wasn’t taking advantage of my capacity properly or something along those lines therefore I was wasting valuable resources, one of those being her time. I finally had to just put the woman on ignore and do the work and stop wanting to … I don’t know … get her approval. I would have never gotten her approval even if I had been three-quarters through a degree from an Ivy League school. And yes, I’ll admit for some reason that still bothers me. I don’t know why at this point, it just does.

Second stack was from Chief Jackson by way of Lincoln – and presumably Markham as well. “We signed for your winter togs early. You’re gonna need them before most of the other Trainees since you are working with Chief Jackson. Also, here is your gym clothes. Wear them under your regular uniform tomorrow. Tomorrow is strength and endurance testing for everyone. You’ll be testing in your boots but let us know if they don’t fit properly and we’ll go from there.” Part of me was grateful because it was getting frosty cold, or at least it was to me. Some of the other Trainees continued to act and dress like it was summer time. Looking at the pile of clothing part of me wanted to groan because the “togs” only increased my resemblance to a large orange pumpkin.

The last stack wasn’t for me but was for Bam-Bam. It was from Chief Delray’s office. Unlike the others, the note that came with that stuff was less personal; more professional I guess you would say. It was typed and in memo format and was initialed rather than signed. Apparently Lincoln and Markham – and I started thinking of them as a set the same way I thought of Jan and Jen as two halves of a whole – had relayed my question about fleece for making Bam-Bam something warm to wear. There was a couple of yards of fleece material and matching thread from the “textile” department but that wasn’t all. There was a small box of baby-specific stuff like ear ache drops, drops for colic/gas, a snot sucker outter thing, butt cream for diaper rash, and baby sized socks. Also in that pile was a pharmacy bag that contained the liquid vitamins like had been prescribed to Bam-Bam before we’d left the birthing center with a note from Nurse Gilroy that I was to keep track on the attached sheets the date and time of each dose and to turn it in when I picked up my own daily dose of supplements.

I debated lessons or sewing and Bam-Bam’s needs trumped my need to show off since I was already ahead of schedule. First, I put stuff away except for the material and thread and then, though it took a few minutes to reach it, I pulled out one of the few things I’d been able to hold onto from my old life. It was the small sewing machine that Momma had bought me. It was a super-quiet model and looked like one of those miniature sewing machines that kids used to get to play with but the guts of mine were commercial grade and included all the nifty miniaturization features that let me plug in memory cards so that it would do fancy machine embroidery stitching. The only thing I had to do was make sure and use the correct needles and tension settings and I was good to go.

The pattern for what I planned to make was super easy as well. I’d found it online when I was running my online businesses and they were always a fast seller. I could either have it be a bag sleeper or I could cut it down the middle and make it like a footed onesie type thing. It was soon made and Bam-Bam enjoyed rolling on the floor on the yardage of the fleece I had not needed for the onesie. According to the “benchmarks list” that I had received from the pediatrician that Bam-Bam saw in the birthing center he was a little ahead in a couple of areas. He doesn’t just get up on his elbows, pick up his head and look around, he can roll from his front to his back. He’s almost rolled the opposite a couple of times … back to front … but he’s not quite there yet. He smiles and tracks objects and people with his eyes, but he’s also started to grab for them. A couple of times that evening he made me nearly laugh when I’d set the bright yellow wubbie duck just out of his reach and he’d get on his stomach and look like he was trying to swim to reach it. It seemed like the perfect time to do what Momma did to me.

When I first came to live with my parents I was non-verbal. There were reasons – my mouth was such a mess that I had a feeding tub for a long time – but they weren’t sure if any of them included mental development issues. I was pretty much a lump that had shut down … until Momma caught me mimicking a little kid that used to live next door to us at the time. He was deaf and communicated almost exclusively with sign language. I’d been in a high chair looking at this soft book and I guess I was getting a little tired of it and wanted to look at one of the board books that the little boy had been looking at. I slapped the high chair tray until Momma turned to see what I was making a fuss about and then out of the blue just did it. The first sign I used was book. Then I pointed at the pile of books beside the boy and signed “more” “book”. Apparently I’d seen the boy do it to get what he wanted so I wanted to get what I wanted. Momma called Dad at work, something that wasn’t really allowed, and she was crying so hard he thought there was something wrong until he could get her settled down and understand what she was saying. My dad said even a couple of hookers that had been there for an interview on some case clapped when he explained to his bosses why he was running around acting like he was spiking a football. It is a story my parents never seemed to get tired of telling because it was the first indication that there was more than mush up in my head. I still remember using sign language because the problems with my mouth lasted off and on until I was in middle school when they had finally operated on everything that was fixable.

For Bam-Bam I started with the word and sign “duck”. He lost interest pretty quick but I kinda figured that was the way it was going to go for a while yet, but it was a start and it made me feel good. I also signed “milk” when it was time for him to eat and hit the hay for the night. Again, after once or twice he could have cared less but babies are just like that. And once he was asleep, I put away all of the sewing stuff – locking it up in my bed/storage chest – I started going through the lessons since it wasn’t quite lights out yet.

I must have been acclimating, or my normal was finally catching up, because it wasn’t quite as hard to get up the next morning and in fact I woke up early enough that I was able to rush Bam-Bam and I down for a quick shower, go back to our room and get dressed, and still be in line at the mess hall before the line officially opened. Bam-Bam was blowing spit bubbles while simultaneously trying to eat his fist when the guys showed up. They didn’t look bright eyed and bushy tailed … they looked foul. I just kept my mouth shut and got in line with them when Quiet Guy motioned for me to get in front of him with barely a hand motion. Dad needed a cup of coffee or Yaupon tea in him before he was completely human. Momma said it was his only vice so she wasn’t going to complain. The guys had the same look on their faces as Dad had before his cuppa … but there was also something else there.

I let it ride until Quiet Guy growled – and honest to goodness growl – when I bypassed the eggs in favor of cereal for breakfast.

“Are you serious?!”

He pointed to the stupid food assignment paper and in addition to the oatmeal I grabbed a hardboiled egg.

“Satisfied?”

He made a production out of reading the paper and then forced my tray down to the next area and then pointed to a fruit cup. I wanted to throw said fruit cup at him then just rolled my eyes and gave in before saying, “If I upchuck during whatever ‘strength and endurance’ test I’m taking I don’t want to hear a doggone thing about it. Got it?” I grabbed my tray, headed to the ubiquitous water dispenser, then to the supplement table to get the horse pill big enough to take up half the room in my stomach and then started looking for a place to sit. That’s when Jan and Jen showed up, bookending me.

“Aw, enough already,” I muttered trying not to sound as ungrateful as I felt at that moment.

They laughed and escorted me, whether I wanted it or not, to a table the guys had already scoped out.

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 13

We were all in the middle of eating when Bam-Bam decides he wants to sit up and they get their first look at his outfit. There was a surprised snicker when his head pops out of the sling with the orange fleece, pom-pom topped hat that I’d made to match the rest of the outfit. Then the snickers came my way when I signed “duck” and said duck and then quack before giving him his wubbie duck.

“What the hell is that?” Dallas asks trying not to choke on a piece of ham.

“Just ignore it,” I told him. “I know we look like a couple of circus clowns in these get ups, but we are warm circus clowns.”

That’s when the broom patrol showed up and Nurse Gilroy looks all stunned and amazed and says, “Are you teaching him Sign Language? At his age?”

I wipe my mouth and answer, “Baby ASL … at least for now.”

“You didn’t mention a hearing deficit.”

“Because he doesn’t have one.”

“And you?”

“Not anymore now that all the surgeries aren’t squeezing my ear canals shut.”

“Pardon?”

As quickly as I could I said, “In case this big honking scar on my lip hasn’t clued everyone in, I was born with a cleft palate. I was non-verbal when I was first adopted. Once Momma started giving me a lot more one-on-one attention than foster care was equipped to provide, I picked up sign language and from there I was able to communicate with the people around me. I didn’t start talking decent until I was school age and even then I stuttered and lisped for a while. But during the surgeries to fix my mouth from all the deformations and scar repair, talking was pretty impossible so I kept up with the ASL. The end.”

Nurse Gilroy tapped something on her tablet as she pursed her lips, but she didn’t hassle me about it anymore and instead said, “Let me know if there are any results from your attempts to teach Blake ASL. It would be interesting to tabulate it along with your other test scores. As for the new uniform he is sporting, congratulations. Chief Larkin in textiles will want to see it. Water bottle?”

I picked it up and shook it. “I’ll fill it up before we leave.”

“Good. You still need to up your intake. Today should help with that.”

After she flew off to pester someone else I muttered, “Oh that gives such a warm and fuzzy feeling.” A little louder I asked the other at the table, “Anyone have any idea what we are in for today?”

Jan and Jen shrugged and weren’t really caring, the three guys on the other hands became cranky all over again.

“Okay, what gives? You’ve had your caffeine injection so it can’t be that.”

It looked like Dallas was about to unload on me but then something surprised him. Surprised the rest of us too for that matter.

Quiet Guy, in his barely audible broken glass and gravel voice, growled, “Tests.”

“Tests. Academic tests? Wait you mean the … the stamina and strength whatevers we are supposed to do today?”

He nodded and then Dallas hunched his shoulders and muttered, “We’re going to fail them.”

“Why?”

He looked at me like an offended feline. “Girl are you blind?!”

“You mean you think your amputation is going to make you fail?”

Everyone at the table stopped eating and just stared at me like I’d just picked a booger out of my nose and ate it.

Jan sighed and put her fork down. “Doe.”

“Look, I get it … or some of it. Everyone apparently has a thing here. I got told off yesterday because I was a little snotty about VR addicts. Fine. She was right. I was being thoughtless. But I’m not doing that now, I’m just stating a fact. And asking a question because I want to understand. Because to me that doesn’t make sense. Why would they intentionally fail someone that just started just because of one part of one of these tests we are all taking? So far all they’ve done is use these tests as a baseline starting point to create … something … a lesson plan sort of thing I guess. And to figure out what career track we fit into. They knew they were amputees before they even got their number to come to The Farm. The way … look … it just doesn’t make sense to me. So Dallas and Cooper are never going to be a Sherpa on Mt. Everest. Well duh. That doesn’t mean there aren’t other things they can do. At least they can when they get over their ‘I can’t’ attitude because they are missing a non-life-threatening body part.”

Everyone at the table just kept looking at me angrily. I hadn’t realized until that moment how much it meant to feel part of a group and suddenly … I wasn’t. Rather than let them see how much that hurt I slowly and carefully got up and took my tray to the trash and then the cleaners and walked outside. As if I wasn’t already feeling badly enough that’s when I heard, “Trainee McCormick!”

I turned to find Lincoln and Markham. I nodded, not trusting my voice.

“You ready?”

“For?” I said, sniffing because my nose wanted to run even if I had managed to stop my eyes from doing it.

“Strength and stamina testing.”

“Yeah. Just tell me what I have to do.”

As I followed them, they explained that I was the only new trainee with a kid that semester. Normally, because of the kids in tow, child and family conducted this section of the testing but they had their hands full prepping the graduating class that had a high percentage of kids in it. “They are making sure everyone’s Ident Papers are up to date with recent head shots, that vaccines are up to date for the location they are going, and that sort of thing. That means you are going to have to test in a different group.”

“I take it I’m officially a problem then.”

“Eh, not too much but there’s standard stuff you have to do and carrying a kid is going to make it more difficult.”

To say the least. Geez. There was the ‘standard stuff’ like we used to do when we had to pass the Presidential Physical Fitness challenge in school … mile run, sit ups, pull ups, and push-ups. But then there were also things like how much weight could I lift, how many flights of stairs could I climb in so many minutes. I had to take most of those tests twice and then between each test there were tests that tracked stuff I didn’t get at the time and some I still don’t, like how long it took me to put certain colored blocks into the order they assigned, how well could I lift awkwardly shaped objects of various weights, answering the kinds of stupid questions on tests I had always hated like the one that says “A little girl kicks a ball, it goes ten feet and comes back to her. How did that happen?” Gravity stupid … she kicked it into the air. Or this lovely nugget. “A rooster laid an egg on top of the barn roof. Which way did it roll? (It didn’t – since when did roosters start laying eggs?)

The audience I had to these spectacular bits of stupidity was even grander. Apparently, kids from the local high school test at The Farm. But not just any kids, oh no. Kids who wanted an internship or whatever for the upcoming summer. And also apparently, there are physical requirements for it … which means they were all basically super in-shape and super enthusiastic to prove how in-shape they were. They also kept looking at me like I was an animal in the zoo. It sucked so bad. I did everything but the two mile-runs with Bam-Bam strapped to me in his sling. Not that there was anyone there that I trusted to hold him so that I could do the tests, but it was just extremely lame. But I didn’t have a choice for the mile-run and to say that his Majesty Bam-Bam the First was not pleased was a big-time understatement. His screaming is what drove me to finish each run as fast as I could. Second one I nearly puked. I don’t know if it was because of the run, or the water I’d drunk, or because of the anxiety of hearing him scream. I had to nurse him after each run just to get him to calm down which irritated the others for being held up. And that was just the morning.

Lunch was spent standing around eating a bag o’ food from the mess hall because it was too wet to sit on the ground. It was also ridiculously cold in my gym clothes even with my boots still on.

Chief Jackson chose that moment to show up and make things even better. “How’s the feet Trainee?”

Without thinking I said, “They’re considering filing a complaint against me for cruel and unusual. But hey, it’s all good. The legs and back are talking about joining and turning it into a Class Action.”

I caught him and several of the others standing around off guard and saw them trying to cover surprised chuckles. Chief Jackson finally shook his head and said, “I want to see if you still have the energy for that kind of sass after the afternoon session.”

“I’ll let you know after I finish reading the undertaker’s report on my lifeless body.”

He snorted, shook his head and then nodded to Lincoln and Markham who were looking at me like perhaps they needed to call Nurse Gilroy.

After lunch we repeated several of the tests from the morning but added some creative ones like a scavenger hunt where I was required to do certain things to get from point a to point b … like use a compass, ride an unprogrammed hover board, guesstimate the cardinal directions like north and south, climb different things to reach the clue to the next point. I had to change a tire, and surprised everyone was that I knew how because some of the intern-applicants didn’t. There was the “clean this garden tool shed in fifteen minutes or less” little ditty that made me so irritable I almost threw something because I had to keep bending over and picking up stuff that had been thrown onto the ground and Bam-Bam hated it so much he urped all over me and his stomach was sour from his earlier upsets. The dumb logic questions of the afternoon included such winning pieces such as a truck driver is going down a one-way street the wrong way, and passes at least ten cops. Why is he not caught? (Because he was not driving! He’s walking on the sidewalk.) And how can a man go eight days without sleep? (By sleeping during the night time). The last test was a five-mile run. I wasn’t feeling too great by that point and the idea of being separated from Bam-Bam and knowing he was going to be screaming the entire time had my chest so tight I could barely breathe. Sure enough within a minute of me starting I could hear him screaming. I knew the only way for me to make it stop was to reach him as fast as I could. His screams just kept spiraling up and it made me a little nutso. I pushed myself to hurry, hurry. Then his screams stopped and that freaked me out even more. It felt like my feet weren’t even touching the ground and all sorts of horrible things were going through my head of why he wasn’t screaming anymore. That’s when things got really weird. I fell a couple of times, I remember that much. I also remember spotting someone holding Bam-Bam and running passed the finish line straight at them. I remember reaching for him but then it was lights out.

# # # # #

I came back around to the sound of people fussing. Jan said, “Chay … hey man … c’mon. You know us right? All we want to do is get Doe some of this crap sports drink. She’s probably dehydrated.”

Jen added, “Chay you gotta stop. No one is out to hurt them. C’mon … enough with making a scene.”

I heard Dallas and Cooper telling someone that turned out to be Nurse Gilroy, “It was the kid screaming that did it. He had to watch them torturing little kids in front of their parents in that hell hole. Just give him a minute to realign his reality. He’s coming around, at least he ain’t doing that growling shit anymore and took the blanket that Chief Jackson tossed him and wrapped them up in it.”

My brain started making connections – at least of a sort – and I must have gasped and made a grab for Bam-Bam only to find he was already in my arms. And I was being held in someone else’s arms. And those arms were shaking pretty badly. My eyes focused and Quiet Guy had his back to a tree and a completely panicked look on his face like he wasn’t quite sure what was going on.

Slowly I said, “I’m back. Can you set me down?”

The clearing we were in became silent and Quiet Guy’s eyes were nearly rolling around in his head while he tried to watch everyone around us and me at that same time.

“Please? Just go easy. My head is not wanting to fire on all pistons. And my stomach …” I gagged but managed not to puke.

It took a moment but that’s what he did, but he absolutely would not let anyone near me yet. They started making noise at him and I finally snapped, “Back the frick off already. You are not helping. He’ll be fine just give it a sec. He’s in full-blown sheep dog mode right now and having issues with the space/time continuum.”

Jan said, “Doe, scare the hell out of everyone next time.”

“Sorry. The idea don’t thrill me either. What happened?” I asked as I slid down and essentially just sat on Quiet Guys booted feet because my legs felt like over-cooked noodles.

“Your kid has a set of lungs an Olympic runner would envy. We heard him a couple of times in the morning, but it wasn’t until he stopped the second time that we realized how stressed it was making Chay. The first time after lunch Chay body slammed the guy he was wrestling and nearly walked off, but Chief Jackson got him focused by saying we were almost finished and then we could come pick you up. Tests were over and we decided to head this way when the Kid starts screaming again but doesn’t stop this time. Chay takes off and by the time we show up he’s taken him from the girl that was holding him and surprise surprise the Kiddo stopped screaming though he was still some hot and bothered for a few minutes and then Chay does that thing you did at breakfast … that duck thing … and gives the kid his toy and wham, bam the kid calms down all the way and takes turn chewing on the toy and on Chay’s collar. The kid is calm, Chay still isn’t with it but he’s calm, only then you come stumbling into the picture looking fried extra well done on both sides and when you pass out right at Chay’s feet Chay goes bye-bye and out pops this growling guard dog. He wasn’t letting anyone near you. Still isn’t but you need to … er …”

I was still some upset myself and just leaned into Quiet Guy’s legs like I had when I had to take care of that abandoned baby and said, “They made me leave Bam-Bam and do these stupid runs.”

“Yeah, we had to do stupid tests too.”

“So? Did you have to give up your kid to perform?”

Things were getting quiet again. “Hey now Doe. It’s okay. Everything is copacetic. Don’t upset Chay again. He’s just now started to calm down.”

I wanted to snark and say something nasty but that’s when Quiet Guy bends down and wraps the blanket around us again. I just want everyone to go away. I just want them to go away and stop staring like I was some kind of freak show they’d bought tickets to watch. Since they wouldn’t go away, I decided I was going to go away. I close my eyes and it was like shutting everyone off.

That’s when I heard Chief Jackson ask, “Trahern, can you carry her and the kid to the clinic?”

I felt myself get picked up but I was pretty disconnected. Next thing I can say for sure is that I am pitching a hissy and striking out until arms come around me so I can’t swing and claw and a gravely voice says, “S’ok. S’ok. S’ok.”

I stop and everyone can see that I’m shocked. “Oh … oh … oh …” Then I look at my hands and a couple of the nails are ripped and all I can think to say is, “Please tell me I didn’t hurt anyone. Please … please …”

“S’ok now.”

I look down and there are a couple of bloody furrows on his arms and I cry like I haven’t in a long, long time. “I’m sorry. So sorry.” Then I start jittering and asking for Bam-Bam.

“Coming. Back.” And then he sounds like he is gagging.

“What’s wrong?!”

He lets go and rubs his throat.

“It … it hurts to talk?”

He nods.

“Then don’t.”

That’s when I see nurse Gilroy has a baby thermometer stuck in Bam-Bam’s ear. “What’s wrong with him?!”

“Blake or Trahern?” she asks absentmindedly, ignoring the near hysteria in my voice.

A snort and I turn and see Chief Madison there and she steps forward. “I believe McCormick is back in the here and now Trahern. Get those scratches cleaned.”

I really didn’t mean to but I grabbed Quiet Guy’s coat sleeve. “S’ok,” he whispered. “Ba – bee there. S’ok.”

Chief Madison asked, “You done with the kid yet? We’re losing her.”

“Has the investigation been completed?”

“Yeah. It was one of the intern-applicants. The way he is telling it a male approached him on his school grounds claiming to be an inspector of some type and that this was a secret test. He promised to take care of the kids’ parents’ debts if he did this one, small favor. But that if he didn’t, he’d make sure the boy’s parents lost their business. The boy said he was assured that no one would be hurt during the ‘test.’ Judge Haygood is leading the follow up on it. The parents of the other three students affected are getting interviewed in town.”

Nurse Gilroy brought Bam-Bam over but stopped just out of reach and said, “Doe, I need you to look at me and nod your understanding.” I nodded. “The water supply you drank from was dosed. Do you understand?”

It was like my neurons were mired in sticky tar and it was making it hard to push thoughts along. Slowly I nodded though I was still piecing what she was saying together so it made sense.

“It was a very mild pharmacological. So far there has been no discernable effect on Blake but you’re both going to remain in the Clinic overnight for further observation. Doe, I need you to nod if you understood what I just explained.”

“Heard it, only kinda sorta makes sense. There’s chunks that seemed to be missing. Did I get people in trouble? Did … did I hurt … someone?”

Quiet Guy pats my arm and whispers, “S’ok.”

“No it’s not,” I say miserably.

Nurse Gilroy hands me Bam-Bam and says, “Actually Trainee Trahern is correct. Everything is fine. No one is in trouble. At least none of the trainees are. Let Trahern go clean up so he can grab dinner. We’re going to get you and Blake washed up. I want to push some fluids through to help you get the hallucinogen out of your system faster.”

It was embarrassing but when Quiet Guy left I felt like crying again. “What is this stuff?! I never cry … not since I had about twelve hours of the Baby Blues and … and not even before that since Momma … since … for a long time. I didn’t cry even when … gah! Will sticking my finger down my throat to upchuck help get this out of my system?”

“No it will not,” she said firmly. “You don’t want to know how displeased I will be if you do that.” She gave me the eye nearly as well as Momma could have done it. To Chief Madison she said, “Margie if you have a sec, help me walk her to the infirmary showers. I’ll take it from there, but I want to make sure she is steady on her feet.”

 

[Mr Bill]

Have to wonder what kind of people would do that.

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 14

After the shower – an embarrassing exercise in failed modesty that I only tolerated because it disguised the tears that were still rolling down my face – I was put to bed as if I was Bam-Bam’s age with an IV to “push the fluids” Nurse Gilroy said would help get rid of the rest of the crap in my system. To add insult to injury I wasn’t allowed to nurse Bam-Bam until the following morning when we were both nearly desperate. My chest hadn’t ached like that since my milk came in and Bam-Bam was so hysterical he had trouble latching on. Fat lot of help the Staff were. I discovered by accident that none of the female staff currently teaching at The Farm had kids of their own though a couple did or did have step kids in their lives at some point.

I wasn’t excused from lessons, but I was allowed to do them in the Clinic with one of Nurse Gilroy’s assistants acting as a proctor. They freaking measured everything that went in my mouth and nearly wanted to measure what came out of the other end, but I drew the line and requested at least a little privacy and dignity. I had a lot of the Chiefs come through the Clinic … well they weren’t coming through to see me precisely; they were coming through to get the latest gossip. Towards the end of the day I did have a particular visitor and I didn’t know just how to take it at the time and looking back I still don’t.

I nearly jumped a mile when a man’s voice said, “Ms. McCormick, staying constructive I see.”

I was nursing Bam-Bam and using a tablet to try and figure out how to do a word problem that was asking me to figure out how long it would take to pay off a business loan if I added an extra five percent in principle every other payment. Talk about your nose bleed kinda problem. The reason I jumped wasn’t because of the problem – though that played a part – it was because I wasn’t all covered up since I hadn’t expected any male of the species to be roaming close by.

Recognizing him immediately as I threw a sheet up over myself and Bam-Bam who squawked at temporarily being dislodged from the feed trough, I stammered, “Er … um … Judge Haywood … uh … to what … um … how … er … how do you do Sir?”

He chuckled and I still can’t figure out if it was fake or not. “Relax Ms. McCormick.”

“Er … Sir … it’s … it’s just Miss … not Ms. … Sir. I mean …”

He chuckled again, and I then wondered if he just liked making people nervous. “Miss McCormick then. I understand from Nurse Gilroy there are no lasting effects from yesterday’s misadventure.”

“Not that I’m aware of Your Honor. Bam-Bam … excuse me … Blake is behaving about as normally as a baby his age does.”

“And you?”

“I’m fine Your Honor.”

“Hmmm?” he asked like he didn’t quite believe me.

“Really Your Honor. I know the difference between sick and well and I’m not sick. I was a little toasted after they took all of the bloodwork last night and then again this morning but that is my normal. Apple juice and Bam … er … Blake … needing me to be in tip top fixed the woosies. Thank you for asking though. Nurse Gilroy said she will release me to have dinner in the Mess Hall.”

“And you are doing …?”

Since he was looking at the tablet I explained about the problem that I was working on and it started a conversation that wound up discussing my online businesses that I’d been using to try and get ahead for Bam-Bam and I. He seemed sincerely interested and asked me for more detail than anyone ever had, including asking for specific prices and stuff.

I did as he asked using the example of when I’d found several Yves St. Laurent blouses on the rack of a thrift store. “They were being sold for a dollar each because most of the hemming had come out of one of them and the other had a torn cuff. That is just basic sewing and I had some nice buttons that I’d found at a yard sale on another blouse that was only good for lining. I put the blouses up for sale and on one of them got really lucky when two bidders went to war over the ‘vintage’ blouse. The other one would have brought more with original buttons but it still didn’t do badly at all. Of course the website took its cut and the tax man took his, but overall not a bad return. It would have helped to buy my books the first semester of community college.”

“Ah yes, the storm took so much from so many. Do you still have designs on attending college?”

I gave him the same response I had been giving everyone else. “For now it isn’t practical. My mother said college was as much about the experience as it was about the education. Well I’ve more than had my fair share of ‘experience’ and right now I need to focus on being practical. I have a baby. How I have him isn’t exactly unimportant, but it isn’t the most important thing. The most important is that he’s my baby to be responsible for and to and that means I need to have a job so I can support us and give him the kind of life my parents gave me. At some point, after I’ve made sure my baby has what he needs, then I’ll see how practical school is going to be. That’s what I’m hoping to earn here at The Farm.”

“Earn.”

“Yes Sir. Earn and learn. No hand outs … but a way out … if I’m willing to put in the work. And I am.”

“A good attitude will take you far in this life.”

“Yes Sir. That’s what my parents taught me.” He made to leave and I said, “It was nice meeting you Your Honor. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome Miss McCormick.”

Having done my polite duty, I changed Bam-Bam’s diaper and went back to finishing the problem the Judge had interrupted. I barely finished when Nurse Gilroy came in and said, “Times up. I want you to head straight for the Mess Hall. I would prefer you not attend the bonfire though I am not making it a requirement. You’ll use commonsense or not. It is up to you. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” I said, trying not to mutter at how bossy she sounded and asking if she’d like to make sure I’d tied my boots properly. I was seventeen, not seven. I expected she was just itching to remind me of all the other things that I’d been taking care of without her instructions and help for a long time. Some people are just like that and I should have known it by that point and just ignored it instead of letting it irritate me. I have a bad habit of letting do-gooders rub me the wrong way. They don’t really mean any harm, they just think they need to manage people to pieces with the best of intentions.

I was sitting in the Mess Hall off in a corner trying to ignore the stares that kept coming my way when a chair gets pulled out slowly. I look up and it is Quiet Guy looking a little ragged around the edges. He had an armload of books and a tablet and after pulling the chair out didn’t seem to know what else to do.

I looked and said, “You can set your junk here while you get some food if you want. I’ll keep an eye on them.”

He gave me a look that seemed a little green and I asked very quietly, “Are you okay?”

He sat down and pulled the tablet over and I could see it was covered in algebraic equations.

“Fun.”

He shook his head and shuddered.

“Hmm. Would you let me apologize for digging holes in your arm by helping you with the math – er – cizes they have your brain doing?”

He looked at me for a minute then gravel-whispered, “No need. Not hurt.”

“Yes need even if you didn’t consider yourself hurt. But the math makes your brain hurt.”

“Yessss,” he moaned.

“Fine. I can still help. It’s … um … not a big deal. I’m not going to the bonfire thing. Nurse Gilroy is on her broom about it. So … I don’t know … is there like a Study Hall kinda place? I’ll draw you some diagrams and then when you get done with the bonfire you can …”

“Not going,” he said interrupting me.

“No. I’m not.”

“No … me … not going. Fireworks. Not good.”

“Wait. They’re having legitimate fireworks?”

He nodded.

I looked at Bam-Bam who was chewing on Wubbie Duck like it was fried chicken. “Geez. Little warning would have been nice. Even if I had wanted to go I wouldn’t go now because all the noise would have done is set Bam-Bam off.” I looked up and saw someone that might be able to help. “Hang on.”

I got up and walked towards Lincoln and she gave me a grunt of a greeting. “Escaped did you?”

“By the skin of my teeth and a long list of instructions. Hey, have a question if you don’t mind.” Her look said to go ahead. “Is there like a study hall or something where people can go … uh … study. But not like the library or anything where you have to be silent.”

“Depends.”

“Huh?”

“For legitimate studying or for screwing around.”

“Legit.” Taking a risk I admitted, “Look, I owe one of the guys … and maybe all of the crew I sometimes hang with because they think I’m like some mascot I guess. The quiet one … Chay Trahern … I scratched him up pretty good yesterday while I was having some kind of hiss fit from whatever that was in the water. I pay what I owe and since it is pretty crappy to have treated him like a freaking scratching post … the math, you know?”

“You aren’t allowed to do his homework for him.”

“Not planning to. If I do it for him how is he supposed pass the test when I’m not around?”

“Just the two of you?”

“Nix on the fraternization thing you are thinking. Not in the plans. That’s why I was asking for a Study Hall. I figure there has to be staff or proctors or something like that hanging around.”

They looked at each other and then said, “We’ll ask Chief Jackson.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

I walked back over to Quiet Guy and asked, “You heard?”

He nodded.

“You okay if they can get a place to study?”

Slowly he nodded again. Then he stood up and nodded his head towards the chow line.

“Sure. Brain food and all that. I’ll watch your stuff. Hopefully before dinner is over Lincoln and Markham will have a place we can study.”

I didn’t realize it at the time but I was pushing through all of the academic lessons a lot faster than the Staff were used to. I also didn’t realize at the time that The Farm wasn’t just about turning “takers” into contributing members of society, but was part of some big pscyho-social petri dish experiment. The head honchos of The Farm had some idea of making the world a better place – or at least this country – by rattling the cage of the class structure that a lot of elites had built using the government entitlement programs as a way to control the masses. The “Nanny State” was despised but because of the generations that it had been in place they couldn’t just rip it to shreds without creating even more economic chaos than the Green movement had created. Enter in people like those that finance and run places like The Farm. It gave a nod to the Green movement by teaching people sustainable living practices but also gave the Capitalists a nod by teaching people real job skills to get them self-supporting. But I didn’t know any of that then. Then I was just looking to learn some skills so I could give Bam-Bam what Momma and Dad had given to me; how and from who I got those skills didn’t play large in my thoughts.

Quiet Guy came back but stood looking at me long enough that I asked, “What?”

He nodded his chin towards another table. “Nah. You go ahead and sit with them. I’ll still be around if you want to work on the math and stuff. Better off for everyone if … look, it’s just better. I’m just not up for … whatever they’re waiting on from me.”

He looked like he wanted to say something but he was Quiet Guy and talking isn’t what he did much of … then or now. He gave me a look that I wasn’t up for trying to figure out then went to sit with Jan, Jen, and the guys but left his bag o’ books for me to keep an eye on.

Not long after that the place got busy and packed. Having a table to myself was not going to continue. I look up at a shadow falling across me and then have to look up some more. “Hey. I’m Mickey and this is my kid. You saving these seats?”

“Nope. You need more room?” I asked spotting a couple of other guys with kids in tow.

“Nah. Besides, we wanna do a meet and greet. And wipe the look off your face before you draw the Dragon Queen this way.”

“Uh …”

“Gilroy. She means well – or so Chief Delray keeps reminding everyone – but man does she get in your business.”

“Er …”

“Don’t worry about agreeing or not. If you don’t know it already you will soon enough. Anyway, I’m Mickey.”

“You said that,” I told the flamboyant guy who was sitting down beside me who sported a long blonde flat top and nail polish even more impossibly orange than the uniforms we were all wearing.

And our fellow diners are Mitch and Trudeau. Trudeau – that was his first name and not his last as I had originally thought – said, “Excuse Mickey. He gets chatty when he is nervous.”

“Do I want to know what he is nervous about?”

“You.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because Love, you are crapping his scores. He’s used to being the only one that chaps Clancy in uncomfortable places. So what is your sitch?”

I blinked and said, “Let’s start over. Hi. I’m Doe … and yes that’s my real name … Doe McCormick. You’re Mickey. You’re Trudeau. And that means you must be Mitch.”

Mitch was shoveling food into this kid that looked to be about two years old with such concentration that he barely glanced my way and nodded.

“And since this is the first time I’ve heard there are guys with kids around and you are all here en mass, just cut to the chase and spill it. I’ve had a crappy couple of days and if it is going to get worse, sooner is better than later for the knowing.”

Trudeau, who had skin so dark that it looked obsidian, was trying to eat and keep a kid that was definitely out of toddlerhood but not by much from falling asleep and sliding off the bench. “Darling, don’t take things so personally. Mickey just wants to get a feel for how you are going to fit into Cell Block A … otherwise known as the Academics Hall.”

“I’ll fit wherever they stick me so that I can get some job training so I can take care of my kid. Is there a particular place you don’t want me to fit? Or one that you do?”

Mickey shrugged. “You going to Lord of the Manor over us?”

“One, I’m no Lord of the Manor,” I said with a snort. “Two, what is that supposed to mean anyway? Three … refer to numbers one and two.”

Mitch finally spoke up and in counterpoint to the two other flamboyant guys he was soft-spoken and serious. “What we need to know is if you are going to try and create problems for us.”

“Why would I bother?”

“We’ve had a few come in and try and … put us in our place.”

I looked at them and saw they meant what was said. I shook my head. “I don’t know you. We have no beef with each other. Your kids aren’t playing whack-a-mole with mine. I see no problems that need to be made.”

“You got them two Spanish dudes thrown out.”

“I what?! So that’s why everyone is looking at me like I killed a sack full of kittens. And to top it off someone is pulling the race card too.” I shook my head. “I didn’t get anyone thrown out or anything else. Those two guys got themselves tossed by getting caught breaking rules … and before that if I had to guess because they decided to follow the wrong person.” Shaking my head again I told them, “You missed the fireworks when my group had movie night – aka let’s see how spooked we can make the newbs from the city – but as it was very … hmmm … forcefully explained to us by Judge Haywood himself, he has only an infinitesimal amount of patience and he isn’t going to waste it on people that can’t follow even the simplest of instructions. The first guy got tossed for tripping someone in the Mess Hall and wasting a bunch of food, presumably it wasn’t an accident and it was caught on one of the many Big Brother cameras around this place. The second guy threatened my kid and I refused to be a shrinking violet about it. What he said was also caught on both audio and video tape and threatening to kill a baby is one of those zero tolerance things around here. The end.”

“So what was yesterday about if you weren’t being interrogated?”

“I was barely compos mentis until about lunch time today. I had some kind of reaction to something that was found in the water I had filled my handy dandy water jug with. Once I was with it all they did was keep taking my vitals and monitor Bam-Bam because I’m his walking, talking lunch room.”

“Oh you nurse?! Oh girl, you are sooo lucky. The price of formula is just painful.”

Mitch kept the two others from going off track by asking, “You haven’t heard anything else?”

“About?” I asked playing dumb.

Trudeau gets strangely serious and says, “Word is that someone tried to poison you.”

“And why would anyone give a crap about me in particular? I’m nobody and I’m happy to stay nobody until they say I can be somebody. Less likely for someone to mistake you for a nail that is looking to be hammered down.”

“You don’t strike me as that type.”

“Which type?”

“The type who wants to fly under the radar. Those others have already taken their toys and moved on. So where there is smoke …”

I sighed. “Look. Whatever you think you know about me, how about waiting and making your own, informed decision before you take someone else’s gossip as gospel?”

“And that’s supposed to mean?”

“It means that someone with an axe to grind – someone that took an instant dislike to me on the way here for no other reason than supposedly because I have a kid or some type of BS like that – has decided I’m a waste of resources on her precious planet and somehow deserves to be punished for it. Or maybe not. I could just be imagining everything and my time on the mover and since has been nothing but a bunch of coincidences fate is testing me with. Either/or I can’t let it get in the way of getting some marketable job skills so I can take care of my kid on my own sooner rather than later. So anything else? If not, I’m being summoned by two Upper Classmen who aren’t exactly thrilled to have me as their senior project.”

I stood up with Bam-Bam in his sling and then grabbed Quiet Guy’s bag o’ books since I still considered myself their guardian. Lucky for me I didn’t have to walk across the entire mess hall to hear what Lincoln and Markham had to say.

“Chief Jackson said that you can use the lounge next to his office but you’ll have to keep things down because we’ve got class.” When she saw my confusion she added, “Trust me when I warn you that things don’t get easier as you go. Third semester students usually have advanced training in their field … usually in the form of night class.”

“Ah so that’s why all of you look so bright eyed and bushy tailed first thing in the morning.”

Unbending a bit she said, “You got it. It is why we call dibs on the caffeine machines at breakfast.”

“I’ll get out of your way anytime you need. And … um … thanks. I owe him and … this is just the only way I know how to pay up.”

They nodded though I wasn’t sure that they really understood what I was saying. Then I walked back to Quiet Guy. Ignoring the others while trying not to look like I was ignoring them I said, “If you still want to go over the math, Chief Jackson said we can use the lounge next to his office. It’s up to you.” I sat his books by his chair and walked away trying to act like I didn’t have a care in the world. I don’t know what it looked like to anyone else but on the inside my bravado was a miserable failure.

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 15 (Part 1)

Once I got to Chief Jackson’s office, I was directed to a room that had “Lounge” on the door. Lincoln said, “Door stays open at all times.”

“Okay. Just don’t come guns a-blazing if we make too much noise. All you need to do is tell us to pipe down.”

I was sitting there nearly twenty minutes before Quiet Guy shows up. The time wasn’t wasted. I fed Bam-Bam, changed him, and then started on my own homework. The thing is when Quiet Guy showed up he wasn’t alone. Jan, Jen, and the guys were with him. I didn’t say anything except to say, “I owe him first.”

Quiet Guy pointed to the lesson book he’d taken out and then pointed to the others and then at the book and nodded. “Everyone on the same lesson?”

They all nodded.

I picked it up and looked over it. I asked, “You guys understand artillery?”

Insulted, Dallas snapped, “A hell of a lot more than you do Girl.”

“Tone it back or we’ll get kicked out. I’m trying to think of some way for you all to visualize the problem. It is a basic trajectory formula. These problems say a baseball player hits a ball at a certain velocity and angle and you are supposed to figure out the position and where it will land. Are they letting you use calculators or are you doing this all by hand?”

Every one of them pulled up a calculator on their assigned tablet and away we went. Since they were all relatively simple problems once they had the formula they figured it out. What they didn’t get however was that I realized they were smarter than they thought I realized, because they were doing the algebraic functions within the formula without me having to show them. The guys I figured it might be a function of their previous job in the military; however, I wondered about Jan and Jen. Sometimes the two of them played at being uneducated gang bangers and other times they accidentally let slip they knew what grammar was and could actually use it … and a thesaurus too. I didn’t say anything though. If they wanted to have secrets then they could have them. I had a few of my own – like my mastery of multiple languages and that I could read lips – that I decided to keep to myself as well.

While they did their homework with only the occasional need for me to help them to “see” the problem so that they could understand what was being asked for, I did my own homework. I’d finished with Calc and Physics, or finished as far as I intended on going for the night, and decided to go on to Technical Writing. The first project I had been assigned was creating a Resume. There were only two requirements; it had to fit on one page and it had to be truthful. I started out making it way too complicated. In the end I decided to simply list myself as the owner/operator of an online business that acquired, modified, and then sold items online and listed all of the platforms that I had used. I then listed skills what I thought would be useful in the categories of general, technical, and business. By the time I was finished I was discouraged. It’s not fun to see just how little others will think you have to offer.

I felt a tap on my arm, turned, and saw the others packing up. “All done?” I asked Quiet Guy.

“With this week’s lesson set,” Jan answered for everyone.

“Okay.”

I leaned over to pick up Bam-Bam where I’d laid him on one of the poofy sofa seats and stumbled over my own stack of books that had been at my feet. Would have gone down if not for Cooper grabbing my arm. I jerked away from him and snapped, “Don’t touch me.”

“What the hell is the matter with you? You hormonal?”

I almost picked up a pillow and slapped him in the face with it but given the fact that we were probably being watched and the “zero tolerance” for almost everything I held back but just barely; it was bad enough that my old “stay out of my space” phobia had gotten the best of me. Slowly and carefully, trying not to sound like a jerk, I told him, “What I am or am not is none of your concern. My issues are mine just like yours are yours.” Putting everyone else that was staring at me like I was a freak on ignore I turned to Quiet Guy and asked, “Did you get what you need?”

Slowly he nodded.

“Good.”

I finished putting on Bam-Bam’s sling (with him in it), grabbed my own bag o’ books, and left the room. I saw Lincoln and Markham sitting there going over something on a tablet and I walked up and asked, “Do we need to sign the room back in?”

“All done studying?”

“They’re finished. I still have stuff, but I’ll do it back in my room.”

“Well put that off a sec, you got an appointment to go over a few things.”

Without turning to look back when Jan called to me, I waived a hand in her general direction to acknowledge her but kept going and followed Lincoln and Markham to an office I found out belonged to Chief Jackson. Inside it was Chief Jackson himself but sitting there was also Chiefs Madison and Delray.

Chief Jackson got off on sitting behind his desk and reminding me of the school principal, but Chief Madison had a different way of doing things. She smiled, which put me on guard whether she meant to or not. “Relax McCormick. You look like you are in front of a firing squad.”

I could tell they expected a response and I tried to give them some honesty. “Well, you can’t say a meeting like this doesn’t have that potential.”

Chief Jackson snorted but didn’t say anything. Chief Delray gave me a slightly disapproving look before saying, “We aren’t the enemy Doe.”

She was using my first name which meant she was trying to take things to a personal level I didn’t think she had a right to yet, but I’d dealt with that before so ignored it as best I could. “You don’t have to be the enemy to hold my fate – and Bam-Bam’s – in your hands. So, what did I do wrong or what do you need from me?”

“Does it have to be either of those two things?”

“Not to be rude but I understand that you … any of the Staff here at The Farm … are not here to be my friend. You are here to do your job. Your job is to see that The Farm is a success. That means that you have to find a way to get all of the trainees to reach certain benchmarks. Your job isn’t to trick us into washing out. But you aren’t above using tactics that might feel that way to winnow out the trainees that are wasting your time and making your job harder.”

When I stopped Chief Jackson said, “Sit down before you fall down. You look like crap. How do you feel?”

Being asked that question by Chief Jackson of all people surprised me. Must have surprised the other two as well but they hid it quickly.

I noticed that Lincoln and Markham had disappeared, and it made me nervous, but I still sat in the chair he’d pointed to and answered, “Rode hard and hung up wet but nothing I can’t deal with. I just need to set a routine that gets me through. Lotta new for a while and Bam-Bam is teething and making life more interesting than what I find restful.”

Chief Jackson nodded then he took charge of the conversation by asking, “That was a hell of an analysis. Come up with it on your own?”

Knowing he meant how I responded to Chief Delray’s questions I answered, “Not exactly Sir. Like I’ve said before, I’ve had some help to get where I’m at. Some were altruistic do-gooders; most were just doing their job and wanted to maintain a successful percentage so they could keep their job. We also had it drilled into us at the group home where I lived before. If Staff does their job and residents do theirs then everyone gets to come out a winner. Some Staff only cared whether the success was enough to look good on paper. I don’t get that vibe from people around here. Or at least I don’t from the people I’ve met so far. And the upper classmen I’ve met all seem determined to finish out, like they want to be a success and The Farm has gotten them there. So this place is legit, but it isn’t Disney World so for me to get walked into an office, after hours, with three Chiefs has to mean something.”

Chief Jackson looked at the other two and then turned back to me. “You’re smart … and perceptive. That has its good points and its bad. Makes our job both easier and harder for one. But you also appear to be a realist which can off-set any potential problems. We’re going to credit you with some commonsense to go along with your other personality traits unless or until you prove otherwise. So here it is … Judge Haygood has taken an interest in you. Contrary to what that may sound like, this is not going to make your life any easier. The man has high standards; but, the few trainees that he’s taken interest in since The Farm started have had the sense to make the most of it and done well.”

Chief Madison interjected, “He also has a soft spot for GIs.”

Thinking a moment I responded, “So it may not be me he is interested in particularly so much as what I am in relation to them. More than likely I’m supposed to help the guys reach their full potential or whatever you want to call it. And if I do maybe, assuming I successfully complete the program here, I might get a little extra help to get me started.”

“You catch on quick.”

“It isn’t rocket science Ma’am. For the record, Trahern I would help without the extra motivation. Don’t ask me why ‘cause you can count me clueless except I get his damage and maybe he sorta gets mine too. He reminds me of some people that I met on the street before coming here … and he’s who I am choosing to pay forward the help I got from them before I got here. Bam-Bam thinks he is okay which is a plus. It doesn’t have anything to do with fraternization or that kinda crap. I don’t have time for it, don’t want it, and just … it is just an uh-uh for me. Not to mention Trahern thinks of me like a little kid or the next best thing to it.”

Chief Delray asked, “Are you sure? I will not be used to circumvent the rules.”

There was that something again that told me that Chief Delray was different than the other chiefs I’d met thus far; like she had more distance or something between herself and the job, was less emotional, and wasn’t personally invested in the success or failure of trainees.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 15 (Part 2)

“Chief, I know what people say my history is but that’s just people running their mouths to do something with all the free oxygen they have access to. The truth, no matter how pathetic it sounds, is I’ve never had a boyfriend, never been on a date, never gone to a dance or movie with a guy, never had a boy even pretend to be interested in me, never none of that stuff. I’m not even sure that had I had any interest in having any of that stuff that I could have actually had it. Until I was in middle school I was considered at-risk health-wise wearing everything from head gear to leg braces to feeding tubes. I’ve been deaf and mute at different points in my life, but I’ve never been blind; figuratively or literally. I have a mirror. I had a mother that made sure that I knew and understood the facts of life early because of what some of the medications I was on did to my body. And my dad was a freakin’ cop which would have precluded some of the stupid stuff guys like to get up to. And the one time that sex was part of the equation, it happened against my will and I wound up with Bam-Bam and … just a crapton of stuff like responsibilities and stuff that fell on me like a ton of bricks. I don’t have time for ‘fraternization’ or anything else but taking care of my business so I can give to Bam-Bam what my parents gave to me. I want to be more than just Bam-Bam’s womb donator. For whatever reason Quiet … Trahern … seems to need to see Bam-Bam gets taken care of too. Maybe it … I don’t know … takes away the ouches from what he saw when he was a POW and what happened with his ex. I’m not sure, and honestly just not sure it matters. I just know it really doesn’t have all that much to do with me personally and I’m willing to let Bam-Bam be a kind of therapy for him if it means that Bam-Bam has someone else on this planet with his interests at heart. Payback for that is I do things like help with the stuff that tweaks him … like the math. That’s all there is to this. Well that and I clawed him up pretty good when … you know … the water thing.”

“Speaking of,” Chief Madison said proving for neither the first or last time that Big Brother was always watching and listening. “That was some smooth moves with those three during dinner.”

I didn’t bother to pretend I didn’t know what she meant. “I couldn’t figure out what their sudden desire for a meet and greet was about. Did they really want to get to know me or were they pumping me for information? They seem okay … sorta … but I don’t like how they thought they could just … I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know trainee?” asked Chief Delray like she didn’t have patience for people that couldn’t explain themselves.

Being blunt I said, “They wear orange just like me. They also sounded like they didn’t know what was going on. I don’t know if that means the facts are above the orange pay grade, if it is being kept quiet in general, or if they were just playing stupid to see what else they could get out of me. If nothing else, growing up in a cop’s house, I learned some people are good at pumping for info, some are clumsy about it, and for some it is as natural as breathing air and is a way of life for them. I also learned you never have to unsay something if you don’t say it in the first place. Better to just say nothing, act like knowing nothing is no big deal or that there is nothing to know, and don’t try and do something like parlay out what you do know into some kind of payday … especially when you don’t know what the situation really is to begin with.”

Chief Jackson grinned a shark’s grin and said, “That’s the commonsense showing we are hoping you have.”

Chief Madison and Delray tried to hide their dislike of Jackson’s words, but they couldn’t quite pull it off … or at least not with me, a person who had learned how to read beneath the words people actually said with their mouths. I was also trying to see if they would let me know what their own game was or if I was going to have to discern it for myself.

Chief Delray sighed and said, “The situation doesn’t need to be any more than what it already is … an unfortunate case of a rather naïve young man being taken advantage of by an individual uninterested in The Farm being a success.” Hmmm, that was an interesting way of putting it. “As for you discussing your part in it …”

“I had no part in it and I’m not interested in shooting down a legitimate chance to set Bam-Bam and I up for better than living on the street with nothing between my kid and the wolves but a plastic sheet that only part way keeps the rain off. Just tell me what you need me to say … or not say. I have no problem with those types of rules.”

Chief Delray pursed her lips and looked at Chief Madison. Chief Madison merely gave her a look back.

Once again Chief Delray gave me a glimpse at her lack of patience. “This isn’t a gulag. That said I prefer to keep drama to as much of a minimum as is reasonably possible in the family area. The three gentlemen pulling what you called a ‘meet and greet’ have been a victim of gender prejudice for so long they can’t seem to …”

Chief Jackson interrupted and said, “They can’t seem to get rid of the chip they carry around on their shoulders. Do not repeat their mistakes.”

Chief Delray became a little testy and said, “They’ve also experienced gender prejudice here on The Farm.”

I noted that her comment was not directed at me so sat back to avoid the fireworks that was brewing.

“Oh come on. Two of the three are genetically male. I don’t give a damn about their lifestyle choice so long as it doesn’t interfere with their work as trainees. Mitch … he’s all right so long as he isn’t getting drawn into the drama those other two seem to live on.”

“You are setting Mitch apart and trying to create conflict between the three of them. Mitch may be genetically female but he’s gender choice male and has gone through gender reassignment.”

“Mitch needs to stand on his own feet and stop worrying about identifying with one group or the other. Our job is not to give them excuses for hanging on to the old baggage, it is to see them move forward regardless of origin or any other identifier.” Suddenly to me he said, “You going to go around hanging onto the ‘rape victim’ handle?”

I could see both Chief Madison and Chief Delray almost wince at the move. But I also got suspicious whether I was being set up. Dad explained good cop/bad cop and different techniques for interrogation. Before I could formulate an answer Chief Delray jumped on the bandwagon and said, “You seem to be having a problem with your new friends. Especially the other males.”

So that was their game. At least they weren’t pretending they weren’t watching us study. I decided to do a little honest deflecting.

“You ever been a sick kid?”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, I’ve got issues but they didn’t just start the day … I was raped.” I hate saying it. I feel like I’m branding myself with some kind of scarlet letter. “When you are a kid and you are sick all these people touch you without your permission and you have absolutely no way to stop them. Even if you act out, scream, cry, bite … doesn’t matter … they just put it down to you being a sick kid and keep doing exactly what they were doing only likely more of it. You’re powerless. You have no control over your life … or your body. After a while it is like being touched is the same thing as being tortured. Eventually you just do whatever you can to block the hell your life feels like out … even if that means blocking yourself in. I was two when I was adopted, old enough to learn a lot of bad habits. I was terrified leaving that blasted medical crib I’d spent my whole life in and going off to some place that should have been heaven but seemed like just another version of hell in the beginning. But then I realized when they touched me it was different … and they kept other people from touching me without asking me first. When I was old enough to really get it I asked Dad. He said you always gave stranger animals a chance to get to know you before you touched them; that the same thing held true for humans. I can’t explain it the same exact way he did because it doesn’t sound the same when I say it. Bottom line is I have reasons for not liking being touched, especially not without at least a little warning it is coming. Cooper just caught some of that and then got a little blunt in return. Fine. Whatev. But he doesn’t get to touch me and act all offended when I object when he …”

“When he what?”

“Look, I blew their fuses by being blunt about the fact they were cranky the day of the physical tests.”

“Explain.” That was Chief Jackson and I guess he had a right to know since he was their supervisor or whathaveyou.

“They were cranky only it wasn’t caffeine related. I called them on it. They said it was the upcoming tests. I ticked them off when I asked if it was because they were amputees. They got even more ticked off when I told them not to assume they were going to fail just because of that and that it was stupid to think that since they’d come to The Farm with staff knowing they were amputees that they were being set up to fail the physical tests. They didn’t like my opinion. I didn’t like their attitude. They still showed up when the water incident had me on meltdown. I’m not squawking about them sitting in on the math helping even though I only expected Trahern.”

“But you are still letting your chip control your brain,” Chief Jackson said disapprovingly.

“Maybe. But only some. However, if they want allowances for their issues, they can make allowances for mine and get over it … or not. The ball is in their court.”

“And the two women? Janice and Jennifer?”

“I don’t know. They’re tight with the guys … I guess they must have stuff in common as they got that way on the mover pretty easy and at the same time started treating me like … not a mascot exactly, not like gang recruiters, like … like … like a kid or something … even called me a minnow. Because they’re friends with the guys they disapproved of my bluntness at pointing out I thought their worry over the physical tests didn’t make sense the way they were thinking about it. I got called on my opinion of VR addicts before that by someone else so it’s not like I don’t have a clue. I need to work on letting my opinions getting passed my lips.”

“But not on the opinions themselves.”

“I’ve got reason to feel the way I do. On the other hand, I’m not so stupid as to think that my opinions, and the reasons for them, trump basic good manners. It is on my daily get-to-work-on-it list.”

Chief Jackson said, “Give Dallas, Cooper, and Trahern the same allowances. Now let’s get off this emotional claptrap and down to business.”

Again, I noticed a little bit of impatience for Chief Jackson’s communication methods from the two female chiefs, but they hid it quickly. Chief Madison said, “Point One: Whatever you think you know concerning what you call the ‘water incident’ you keep to yourself. The situation is being managed and that’s all you need to know.”

I nodded and then it was Chief Delray’s turn. “You need to associate more with the other trainees in Child and Family. Allowances will be made due to your particular training track and class schedule but isolating yourself is not acceptable. You are too exclusive … broaden your acquaintances even if you are incapable of having friendships. Trainees learn to build social support networks with their peer groups. As a single parent you need to have this skill before you start socializing and looking for a significant other.”

“I’m not looking for a significant other,” I snapped before thinking. I immediately apologized. “Sorry. I didn’t need to bite your head off. It just gets more than a little old for people to assume just because I’m female, have a kid, and are of a certain age that I think sex and security are the same thing.”

Chief Jackson said, “And it gets old for trainees to assume we don’t know what we are talking about. You may be different, but you aren’t that different.”

Chief Madison stepped in and said, “McCormick, there are all sorts of temptations in this life. If you can avoid falling for them great; however, it is our job to make sure you have the skills to avoid them and some of that may include stating what you consider to be the obvious.”

Chief Delray wasn’t satisfied with my attitude and let me know it. “Trainee whether you like it or not it is my job is to keep things running smoothly in my department. With each new influx of trainees I have to deal with the same crap over and over. It may take different forms but in the end it is just the same old crap. You are seventeen, have a child because you chose not to abort or give him up for adoption. You have no family willing or able to support you. For all intents and purposes you are alone and penniless in this world. I would suggest you learn what we are offering to teach and make some contacts. The world is a damn cold place without them.”

I wanted to pop off and tell her I wasn’t nearly as penniless as she thought but since I couldn’t access any of the trust fund that held the insurance money and had no idea when that was going to change, I decided to keep that information to myself. I also noticed she said contacts and not friends. Rather than say what was rattling around in my head I took a calming breath and said, “Yes ma’am.”

With that Chief Delray got up and walked out without another look in my direction.

 

[Kathy in FL]

CHAPTER 16 (Part 1)

“Well you certainly know how to make an impression,” Chief Madison said lightly, trying to hide the surprise she appeared to be experiencing at the other chief’s departure.

I fought making a snarky comeback and just sat quietly trying to appear calm. Chief Madison turned to Chief Jackson when he chuckled. He reached into his desk and pulled out what looked like a flat goose egg and sat it on his desk and then shook his head and said, “You know what this is?”

“I … er … yes Sir. It’s one of those things they make VR addicts wear. It is so they can’t access any tech without permission.”

“That it is McCormick. It also has a side benefit of blocking recording devices. I catch any trainee with one of these and your ass will be out on the road so quick it’ll have a permanent skid mark. Understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes Sir.”

He nodded. “I won’t put up with trainees badmouthing Staff but if you have something to say spit it out. It stays between the three of us.”

I carefully said, “I don’t want this to sound like an excuse, but I haven’t exactly had time to meet too many of the trainees that weren’t on the mover I came in on. And those that were on that mover fall into two categories. The few willing to cut me a break and wait to see if I’m a waste of resources and those already so convinced of it they’ll never believe anything else. Those in the second group have also gone out of their way to convince other people of their version of events. I’m coming to the conclusion that those in the first group may only tolerate me so long as I’m biddable or useful.”

“And?”

“And I’m tired of running headfirst into brick walls and doing little more than winding up with a migraine. That old saying that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result is a truism for a reason. I’ll do what I have to if it is a requirement to progress along the training plan. I’m not even against it. I know you don’t get along in this world without helping and being helped by others.”

“And about Chief Delray?”

“What about her? She is a chief. She holds a position of authority here at The Farm. I don’t have to be best buddies or teacher’s pet to accomplish what she apparently needs to see from me. I’ll figure out a way to find the time to meet some of the other trainees in the family area. But I’m not going to force myself in. I’ll knock but I’m not going to cry buckets if they don’t answer the door. I’ve never been the type of person that needs a lot of friends or even needs to be liked. My parents taught me how to operate independently. They did it out of necessity because I couldn’t always be around people my own age … most of the time it was for health reasons but some of it was because I freaked other kids out, heck the way I used to look freaked adults out. I had good doctors and a great plastic surgeon but what I grew up with … I’m not special or whatever but I’m not your average seventeen-year-old either. And … yeah … yeah I resent when people try and treat me like I’m young and dumb and bound and determined to make the same stupid mistakes that a lot of people my age make, that people older than me make. I didn’t choose to get pregnant, but I took responsibility for the little person that was created because of what happened, because it wasn’t Bam-Bam’s fault he got created. I’m willing to be responsible for the rest of my life if that is what it takes because that is the way the doctors thought it was going to be. So far Bam-Bam isn’t proving to be special needs like they thought but that doesn’t mean that something might not show up at some point. I know I’m not the only person that has been in my position. I’ve had about all the counseling that is going to do any good to get me passed what happened. And at the risk of sounding every bit as immature as people think I am, I would just like a little credit for not being the crybaby I could have turned into. I’m not asking for a handout. I’m willing to work. Heck I want to work. I don’t go looking for all the junk life has thrown at me. I just want to get beyond this … this constant starting over and finally start moving forward. I want people to stop expecting me to fail to the point they won’t let me do anything but fail. Stop trying to put me back in a box I never came out of. Let me prove myself. I just want a chance … for me and for Bam-Bam.”

The two chiefs looked at me then at each other.

Chief Madison then picked up the ball. “I’m going to say this once and only once. And you need to hear what I’m saying. Your frustration is understandable. However, Chief Delray can … hinder … your completion of your training. She has the ears of certain members of the Board. Fall in line. Do what she asks of you even if you believe that what she asks gets in the way of other areas of your training. This is not something that can be mitigated, you need to learn to accept it as it is. Treat this as its own learning opportunity. There are going to be supervisors that you come into contact with that will … shall we say … have their own preconceived ideas and you will have to learn to deal with a certain amount of inflexibility as a result. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Trying to do what I’d been forced to learn to do which was not react immediately until I had had time to think about it I responded, “I … I think so. It sounds like trainees need to learn to get along to go along … and move up. And … and maybe Staff have to do the same thing.”

Chief Jackson pursed his lips and steepled his fingers. “Yep. You’re perceptive. Just remember that perception is no good without discernment. And discernment is no good without the ability to know when to keep your mouth shut. You need to know when to act and when to let it ride. Do you understand what I’m saying to you trainee?”

What he said reminded me of some of the things Dad used to tell people he was training. “Yes Sir. Perception is organization, identification, and interpretation of sensory input. Discernment is the ability to distinguish and use good judgment. You’re saying that there are things going on above my paygrade that can either work for me or against me. There’s Judge Haygood and his interest that isn’t going to make things any easier in the short term but could be helpful in the long run. Then there are the expectations of other Staff that may or may not complicate that. And that since I don’t fit into some nice, neat category like most of the other trainees, that is going to make one or more Staff and maybe the other trainees have a greater need to put me in my place … or at least put me into the place they think I should be shoved into. In order to survive I’m going to have to fly under the radar but prove myself as much as I can. I’m going to have to try and fit in but I’m going to have to try to not make the same mistakes as everyone else. I’m going to have to play nice with people that won’t play nice with me. Everyone expects me to look up to them and give them credit but I’m not supposed to expect it from them in return.”

Chief Madison looked concerned but Chief Jackson seemed to relax. “That’s right. Life isn’t fair trainee, but it looks like I don’t have to explain that to you. Well here is something else to chew on … life isn’t just either. If you are looking for justice, you can forget it. It would be nice if it was, but it isn’t. Bad things happen to people that don’t deserve it and good things happen for people that didn’t earn it. Let it be part of your motivation to move up the food chain wherever you wind up … be part of what helps you to survive the injustice you will inevitably feel or witness. It doesn’t change the facts, but you do tend to have access to emotions and strengths that help offset the shit life dishes.”

Chief Madison did one of those nose flares that Momma would do when she didn’t approve of something but didn’t feel it was her place to say something about it. I guess Chief Jackson’s language didn’t thrill her, but I’d already heard so much worse that his communication style didn’t faze me.

The man said, “All I’m going to add is you’ve got potential. I want to see you take that potential and turn it into something you can succeed with if for no other reason than it bunches the panties of certain types of people that chap my sensitive bits. The more like you that we can find, and get into a position that you can avoid the jack-booted thugs and brown shirts of this world, the better place we’ll have to grow old in.”

That gave me a perspective I’d never thought about. I answered, “Yes Sir.”

Chief Madison said, “Just to be clear, just because I might not be able to … intercede … between you and Chief Delray doesn’t mean that you can’t come talk to me when you have frustrations. However, you need to accept that there is a … hmmm … food chain at The Farm. Chief Delray isn’t my boss, but she can make things difficult in ways that I would prefer to avoid.”

Chief Jackson gave his shark’s grin and added, “In other words McCormick, just because we’re giving you a little extra attention doesn’t mean extra privileges comes with it.”

“Yes Sir,” I responded quietly as I had a lot to think about.

# # # # # # # # # #

I left the office and immediately ran into Lincoln and Markham. “Uh … sorry, didn’t know you were waiting on me.”

“What are your plans?”

“Need to make sure that we didn’t leave a mess in the Lounge for one.”

Lincoln slowly grinned. “Uh uh. Delray already checked. She must have grilled you good. You are looking a little crispy.”

I sighed. “A little. I can see her point … not enough appropriate socialization with the right people.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Markham asked sounding a little offended.

“Huh? Oh … I don’t think she meant anything about the people I’ve already hung around. Besides it isn’t like you were given a whole lot of choice since I’m like some kind of class project for you. It’s … look I’m supposed to find the time to interact with other people in the child and family division but I’m trying to figure out when I am supposed to make time for it. Bam-Bam can’t be out in the cold a whole lot until he’s acclimated and I’m going to have him out in it probably a lot already, completing whatever Chief Jackson has up his sleeve to encourage my ‘improvement.’ Not to mention Nurse Gilroy might have a thing or three to say about the bonfires like she did about the one that is going on tonight.”

They got a kick out of the way I said it – and what I didn’t say that came through my tone of voice and facial expression – and started walking with me back to the dorm building.

“The academics are going to take up a lot of time too. Either study groups like tonight or the proctored study hours where socializing isn’t exactly encouraged. There’s the dining hall … and I met three others tonight, but they were the ones that reached out to me. And …”

They stopped me and looked around before saying quietly. “Yeah, about those three. Play nice. They … um … they don’t have any more privileges than anyone else in their first semester, but their situation is different. Different enough that …”

Playing the politically correct game was an art that I’d been forced to learn to practice. “They have special circumstances. Sort of like how I was mouthing off about the VR addicts and you called me on it. I haven’t forgotten and won’t. There are some things that just shouldn’t be said.”

Lincoln relaxed, and Markham was only a moment or two behind her. “You remember that and you’ll get along fine. As for socializing, Chief Delray sets up opportunities and there’s a playground that the kids can be taken to so they can burn off some energy. You’ve got a baby so it might be a little different but at least you can get to where you can put together some faces and names. You’ll also spend an hour or so per week in what amounts to an activities of daily living type course only it will be geared so that you learn what your kid should be doing and when. But Delray doesn’t teach it, Nurse Gilroy and one of her assistants do. Chief Delray just gets the reports and analyzes them.”

“Um … does Chief Delray teach any classes?”

“Not really, she’s too busy keeping things to a dull roar in the family wing.”

“Uh …”

Markham said, “Yeah. It can really heat up in there so watch your p’s and q’s. Try not to stand out too much. Last semester there was a big fight and six people washed out at one time. The Farm has never had anything like that happen in Child and Family and it caused some … uncomfortable visits by the Board.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter if you are trainee or Staff; no one likes pop quizzes or pop inspections.”

“Exactly. If I had to guess Chief Delray just wants to make sure there are no repeats. I heard no one was too thrilled when they found out how little your kid is.”

“I won’t ask how you know but thanks for sharing. Makes some of the things I’ve noticed a little clearer. I don’t want anyone thinking that I’m a nail looking for a hammer so I’ll … be circumspect. Would be a lot easier if I could just keep to myself but apparently that is out.”

They chuckled in sympathy but by that time we were at the steps that led to the dorm and all three of us stopped, surprised, to see Jan and Jen sitting there.

“We coulda walked her back,” they said. They sounded friendly but there was also something there that sounded anything but.

“Coulda but didn’t,” was Markham’s reply and even a blind man could have seen the sparks that were set to fly.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 16 (Part 2)

I deemed it time to show I was actually there and not just a shadow. “Uh … yeah. Look, I guess y’all didn’t hear but this is Lincoln and Markham and they are officially stuck with me being their senior project. Lucky them. Chief Jackson sorta added an ‘or else’ to it so … feel sorry for them and let them go do their thing now that I’ve been returned where I’m supposed to be for the rest of the night.” Turning to Lincoln I added, “And thanks for keeping me out of hot water. I appreciate the advice.”

She gave me a searching look and then nodded. “This might turn out after all.” She added, “Tomorrow is going to be your first day of survival training. You’ll have to tag along with Chief Jackson’s group and you’ll have to keep up but he isn’t out to fail you … just you can’t play around either because it will hold the GIs back and they have more to prove in that area than you do and they’ll probably act like it too.”

I shrugged. “From what little I know, guys are like that no matter the subject matter.”

“Ain’t that the truth. Just make sure you get some rest tonight. You’ll be outside most of tomorrow.”

“Lovely.”

They walked off towards some other upper classmen that had waved them over and I turned to Jan and Jen not knowing what they wanted.

They just looked at me and it became a test of wills to see who could make whom speak first. I finally got fed up with it and sighed and went to open the door but then had to stop.

“How come you didn’t sit with us at dinner?”

“And destroy the appetites of Cooper and Dallas? No thanks.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t play games Jan. I don’t know what is up, but I know something is. If it is secrets, then keep them. I don’t need to know, and I don’t even think I want to know. You may be a few years older than me but that doesn’t mean I don’t see things.”

“You got it wrong.”

“Sure I do.”

Jen said, “Yeah you do. So Cooper and Dallas got butthurt. Big deal. You didn’t see them running the other direction when whatever was going down happened during the physical exams.”

Remembering I was told to ignore the situation as being none of my business I ghosted over the unasked question about what really happened and said, “I didn’t say the guys were total creeps or anything like that. Besides, their being there had more to do with Trahern than with me. But I don’t need the cold shoulder routine, I get that enough from other people around here.”

“You going to even ask how they did?”

“They passed or they wouldn’t still be around worrying about math questions that they wound up not having any problems with after a little help finding the correct formula to use. Anything else?”

Jen looked at Jan and said, “I told you she was more pissed than hurt.”

Watching me Jan said, “Maybe. But I still want to know what caused her freak out in the lounge.”

“I didn’t freak out.”

“Sure looked like you were about to.”

“About to and actually doing aren’t the same thing.”

“Alright. Then spill why you were about to. The guys hassling you?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“Why do you care?”

“Don’t know, just do. So spill it. Your attitude ain’t helping.”

“Yeah, and neither did Cooper’s. If he wants special consideration for his issues then he can damn well give me some for mine.”

“Whoa, the minnow can cuss.”

“Are you trying to be funny? Because I gotta be honest, I’m not feeling it.”

All three of us jumped and turned when there was a loud thump on the stairs. I looked as Quiet Guy whispered, “S’ok. Go.”

“It isn’t your responsibility to explain what should be obvious.”

From behind Quiet Guy I heard Cooper grumble, “Well it ain’t obvious to me.”

Quiet Guy whispered again, “S’ok.”

He motioned for me to go inside but I shook my head. “I’ll explain it to the knuckleheads but thanks. Apparently you are the only one that understands, but that’s fine. I know why you understand but it sucks that you do … both the how and the why.”

He stiffened up for only a second then shook it off and stepped so that he wasn’t between me and the other four. I said, “Look, what happened to me might have happened to other people all the way back to Bible times. And maybe I came out better than a lot of people have when it happens to them, but not without a fair share of counseling to help me get through the initial aftereffects. However, that doesn’t mean it didn’t leave some marks. I don’t like being touched but since I don’t want to live wrapped up in freaking bubble wrap, and don’t want to teach Bam-Bam bad habits, I realize touching is just part of the human condition that I need to learn to live with. That said, I don’t like being crowded and I don’t like being grabbed … especially not by guys bigger than me. And if I have to explain why you really do have a few screws loose. You gotta be deaf too to have missed Mari Johnson doing her best to tell the world my business. So you can just dang well deal with it. I gotta deal with your feelings about your amputation, you can deal with mine about being … r … raped. Got it?”

Cooper just sort of blinked and said, “Geez kid, yeah. Got it. Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

I wanted to take a fence post and clunk him in the head. Instead I turned to Quiet Guy and asked, “Is he for real?”

He shrugged but I surprised him enough with the question that I startled a mouth twitch out of him that looked suspiciously like it could have turned into a grin or laugh if it had been allowed to grow.

Dallas drawled, “Eh … he’s alright. Just got blown up a few too many times.”

“Hey!”

They were trying to break the tension, but I was having a hard time. Eventually I decided it might be one of those times to practice getting along to go along. Besides there was a crowd coming in from the bonfire and I didn’t want any more attention.

That’s when Trudeau ran up and draped an arm over me making me cringe and jump but the worst was when he dramatically cried, “Are these bad boys harassing our little shrimp?”

I sighed and detangled myself and said, “Of course not. Is the bonfire over with?”

“Oh Honey, you missed it. Where were you at?”

“Which where and when? Being told by Nurse Gilroy that she didn’t think the bonfire was a good idea, trying to dig my way out of more homework than I’ve had in forever, or receiving some extra special direction from three chiefs who think I may be a few fries short of a value meal?”

I got a surprised high-pitched laugh as an answer before Mitch came up and said, “Sounds like you had fun,” meaning the exact opposite. To everyone in general he said, “There was an argument at the bonfire. Some chick complained that we were using wood that hadn’t fallen naturally and were creating too many carbon emissions or something weird and old-school like that. A few other things were said and then things got political and then some pushing started. These guys with badges pulled out tazers and things got real quiet real fast but it was too late. We were all sent back, and we’re supposed to go to our rooms and wait for further instructions.”

I looked at the others and we all thought the same thing at the same time. Mari. Quietly we all did as the others were doing … headed to our room. When I got there I was trying to figure out whether to close my door or not but didn’t have to decide because Chief Delray and some upper classman that was apparently her assistant showed up as I was changing Bam-Bam out of the warmer outter clothes.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t want him to overheat. He was getting fussy.”

She nodded then said, “You didn’t go to the bonfire.”

“No ma’am. Nurse Gilroy told me she didn’t think it was a bright idea after being all day in the infirmary.”

“Fine. What did you do after I left the meeting?”

I wondered if it was a test or if she really didn’t know … and if she didn’t why she would even care. I decided to be honest and told her, “Listened to Chief Jackson and Chief Madison give me some other directives, warn me of some behaviors they didn’t want to see, and then as Lincoln and Markham walked me back here I asked them for some suggestions on how to find time to socialize appropriately given my current schedule. When we got here, they were called over by some other upper classmen. I saw Jan and Jen and was going to ask them the same thing but then the guys showed up and I had to straighten out how I’d acted during the study session. Before I could get any further than that, Trainee Trudeau came up and then Mitch and they explained we were all to go to our room and wait until we were told otherwise.”

“They didn’t explain why?”

“Not much time to. I got the basics but only generalities. It was enough to know we’d been told what we were supposed to be doing so all of us fell in line and did it.”

She sighed through her nose and instructed, “This is Perkins. She will escort you to the facilities. Take care of business and then return here. Stay in your room. We’re on lockdown until Judge Haygood gets here and decides what he wants done. This is the second major incident and the semester has barely started. This does not bode well. Another semester like the last one we do not need.”

I don’t think she’d really been thinking about who she was talking to because she stopped and shook herself and then turned abruptly to leave.

The hallways were unnaturally quiet compared to what I’d experienced thus far. I came back from the facilities with more than a few things to think about. I did it while I dealt with the mess that had been dumped on my bed courtesy of Chief Larkin from textiles.

Trainee McCormick,

This isn’t a test but an opportunity. See what you can make of these supplies. If, after review, the items are suitable as a sales item in The Farm’s thrift store then you’ll have yourself a way to build credits. Trainees don’t often get such an opportunity until mid-way through their second quarter if not later. However, after getting a look at what you did with the orange fleece, I’m willing to take a chance on you. Show me what you can do.

Chief Larkin

There were several tops but all of them were what I would have normally thrown in my “rag bag” for parts rather than try and completely rehab over. I figure of the five I could get maybe three with a couple of accessories like matching headbands or scarves. There were a couple of pairs of blue jeans but they were a mess … like someone too large had worn them too long and were thin in places that couldn’t be patched. Another pair was what you would call over-sized and the bottoms were really torn up. There was a fourth pair that wouldn’t be good for much but turning into shorts but I had a feeling that wouldn’t be appreciated. You could buy a pair of blue jean shorts anywhere for cheap, in a thrift store things needed to stand out to get a good price for them. I was discouraged until I thought about some of the other projects I’d done because I’d been disparate. I looked at the pile of mess with different eyes and started planning.

By the time lights out arrived I’d turned one of the pairs of jeans into a skirt but it still needed something to dress it up but I felt like I’d worked off a week’s worth of stress with just a couple of hours of sewing. I’d also had time to think about what had happened that night.

I wasn’t sure what to make of Chief Delray. I knew I didn’t really like her much but that didn’t make her e-v-i-l or anything stupid like that. It also didn’t mean I needed to go off the deep end and think she had ulterior motives for everything she did. I decided to just deal with her and see what came. Chief Jackson was a little rough – okay a lot rough by most people’s standards – but he wasn’t too awful. He reminded me of one of my Dad’s partners. I wasn’t allowed to hang out downstairs too much when he was around because he had a mouth on him that Momma didn’t want me exposed to, but Dad liked him. Chief Madison was … she reminded me a bit of the Dean of Girls at the high school. My problem was that I wondered what their motive was and whether I was being set up or tested or something like that. I decided to keep my own council as much as possible. I would have done that anyway, but the strange way things were run on The Farm made me more determined than ever to watch my mouth … and my back … until I could graduate and get out of there.

Lincoln and Markham were proving to be okay. Basically, it was like school. They were older and had gotten there first and earned their stripes. I was the new kid on the block, and they’d been forced to associate with me whether they wanted to or not … and for a grade on top of it. Of course, there would be resentment, but at least they didn’t seem interested in taking it out on me as far as I could tell.

All the other stuff was building a picture of the place Bam-Bam and I lived, and it was certainly different than my first impression of the place, not that I’d had much chance to have a first impression. Underneath the claptrap this definitely wasn’t like school, but it had some of the same issues … cliques, bullies, teachers with attitudes and/or unrealistic expectations, teachers that tried to do the right thing, and apparently there were also rules for the teachers that weren’t very friendly to their peace. That last did concern me because it made me wonder if there was some puppet master out there that could jerk the rug from in under Bam-Bam and I again and send us back to square one right as we were really gaining some forward momentum. Yeah, that concerned me a lot because this time I didn’t know how I would start over.