Children of Wrath, Page 2

  Ethan consciously kept his face neutral, but inside he was excited. What would happen if the citizens of JP found out their leaders had been lying to them?

  Almost as if reading his mind Paul said, "You can't act like you know this. Do you know what they would do to me if they found out I was talking to you like this?"

  Ethan flashed his most reassuring smile and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Mr. President. We are partners, friends even. I would never let anything happen to you...or your son. As long as we remain friends. You do value our friendship, don't you?"

  Paul nodded dejectedly. "Yes, sir. I do."

  "Good," said Ethan. "Let's go visit your son. Such a splendid boy he is."

  Chapter 2 - Retirement

  Reggie Philips donned a sport coat and prepared to depart his house. The Saturday morning interviews with Tim Reynolds at WKPO had become tradition now. No one seemed to care that he was no longer the JP President. As a matter of fact, it had made him more popular, as now he was allowed to speak his mind.

  "You okay, dear?" Reggie asked his wife.

  Janice turned slowly from the sink where she was washing the morning's dishes. The crutch under her arm to compensate for her missing leg made the turn complicated, but his wife managed it with grace. "I'm fine. You go play. See you for lunch?"

  "Gonna run by the library afterwards, but should be back by then," he said.

  She smiled at him. "Turning into quite the scholar in your old age, aren't you?"

  Reggie kept his look neutral and nodded. He had been researching lately, but there was nothing scholarly about it. Reggie was concerned about the future of the JP, and what he'd discovered so far had been depressing. Hoping the knowledge of their lost world contained some answers, he kept reading.

  "You'll have to tell me eventually what's so interesting," she said, turning back to the dishes.

  "You bet," said Reggie, walking over to give Janice a peck on the cheek. Despite her age and gray hair, he still saw her as he had nearly forty years ago when they had first met at a little diner in Frankfort. Simply beautiful.

  He left the little house and hopped on his bicycle before beginning to ride north toward downtown Murray. As usual, neighbors waved to him and greeted him readily, but he noticed there were fewer residents around. If people had relatives or family that lived out in the county, many had moved out of town. Food prices in the town had gone up as the cost of transportation had increased, reversing a centuries-old trend of people moving from rural to urban environments. On farms, you could get food easier, and the farms needed the extra labor. Even if the families in the city kept their homes, most only used them once a week when their entire clan made the trip to town to trade or socialize.

  Other changes were afoot. Although electricity was still plentiful and free, Reggie knew it wouldn't stay that way for long. The JP was operating too close to the bottom line and needed funds to function. Thank goodness they had already abandoned the confounded trade system and gone to the use of money. So far they hadn't seen much inflation except for low-supply high-demand items.

  Reggie slowed as he approached the station. He had started the radio addresses shortly after N-Day in order to put out information and try to calm nerves. While he was the JP President, it had been his means of communicating with his constituents. He had assumed his broadcast interest rested solely on his position of authority, and was surprised when Tim Reynolds had approached him to start a new regular broadcast.

  "Oh no," Tim had assured him. "People want to hear from you. You still carry a lot of weight. They respect you."

  "Just not enough to vote me back into office," Reggie said peevishly.

  Tim shook his head. "You know that election was heavily skewed by the actions under General Anderson's command during our conflict with the West Tennessee Republic. People don't think you had anything to do with it. They were just upset about the Fulton Massacre and everything that went with it. The election was the only way they could express their displeasure."

  "Well, they had it all wrong," said Reggie. "If it hadn't have been for Clarence Anderson, we would have lost the Battle of Fulton and be in a world of hurt. They should know that."

  "So tell them," Tim said. "In fact, tell them anything you want."

  Over the past few months, Reggie had. He took great pains to steer clear of any topics that might come across as critical of President Campbell's administration, but there were plenty of other items to talk about and he found the experience cathartic. In other ages, presidents had written their memoirs after leaving office. The radio broadcasts suited Reggie better.

  He parked his bike and climbed the steps to the radio station and then walked inside. Reggie saw Tim Reynolds speaking into a microphone in the broadcast booth, and both men waved at each other. Walking over to the coffee pot, Reggie poured himself a cup of chicory and added a dollop of honey.

  Beekeeping was making a huge comeback. It was one of the many free gifts of knowledge the local Mennonites had passed to the JP people. Unable to grow sugar cane in the Kentucky climate, honey and sugar beets were the only real source of sweetener. Before N-Day, processed sweeteners had been in everything and people's withdrawal from the substance had been nearly as bad as what Reggie imagined heroin would cause. There had been theft, fights, even murder over a small packet of sugar. The bees also helped pollinate corn and other crops and required very little upkeep.

  "Sorry to keep you waiting," said Tim as he came out of the booth and looked at the cup in Reggie's hand. "I had some instant coffee, but the sound engineer drank it all last night while replacing a switchboard."

  "It's okay," said Reggie. "I never liked instant coffee anyway."

  "No one liked instant coffee," Tim answered. "Not when we had real coffee. Now it's like the most amazing cup of high-end java that has ever passed your lips, believe me."

  Reggie smiled and sipped from his cup. "I actually like chicory. In time, everyone will accept the loss of coffee and sugar and fast food."

  Tim sighed. "I guess you're right. Want to come on in?"

  Reggie nodded and stepped into the booth, taking his usual seat. "Any agenda topics today?"

  He picked up a clipboard and flipped up a page. "This is the first Saturday, meaning it’s medical and practical items as usual. After that, I'd like to ask your thoughts on a number of other issues that seem to be of interest to people. You want to see them first?"

  Shaking his head, Reggie answered, "No. I like the spontaneity of it all."

  Tim nodded. "It adds realism and I think it helps you connect with the listeners. Comes across as more genuine." Tim looked up at the clock. "You ready?"

  "Sure," answered Reggie.

  Tim pulled the microphone close, watched the clock closely for perhaps thirty seconds, and then flipped a switch. "Good morning, friends. It's that time again where we get to visit with our very own Reggie Philips. The first JP President and the man many claim saved our bacon after N-Day. Welcome, Reggie."

  Reggie waved a hand dismissively at Tim's introduction. "Thank you, Tim, but I didn't save anyone's bacon. We all did it together."

  "As modest as ever;" answered Tim. "One of the reasons we love you. Can you talk a little bit about the health situation? I know you have many friends at the hospital."

  "Certainly," answered Reggie. "You will be excited to know that Dr. Bobby Wilson has been able to conduct successful blood transfusions lately for people suffering serious blood loss."

  "How is that possible?" asked Tim. "The hospitals can't do lab work anymore."

  "That's not exactly true. They don't have the technical capability to do advanced laboratory work, but simple tests are possible."

  "So, how do they determine blood type?" asked Tim. "From my understanding, giving someone the wrong type of blood is sometimes fatal."

  "Indeed it is," answered Reggie. "Dr. Wilson and his team have been able to determine blood type by analyzing samples under a microscope. Different blood typ
es each have very distinct shapes and can therefore be differentiated."

  "That's amazing," said Tim. "But it sounds like something that takes time."

  "True," answered Reggie. "It is best if people know their blood type, but we have discovered that many don't. This test allows us to find out."

  "And determine who can be a blood donor," said Tim.

  Reggie nodded. "Yes, Bobby is also building a database of all patients' blood types and is asking anyone who knows their blood type to register. That will allow us to reach out to people when there is a need. He is also offering free blood-type tests for anyone who wishes to know."

  "I certainly would," said Tim. "And I encourage our listeners to go to the Murray Hospital and see Dr. Wilson for this new test. What else in the medical realm, Reggie?"

  "Bobby also told me that they have recently seen more cases of typhoid."

  "Typhoid?" said Tim. "That comes from drinking bad water, right?"

  "Yes," said Reggie. "More and more people are drinking water from streams and ponds, but there could be runoff from farms or livestock in the water. Dr. Wilson wanted me to encourage everyone to get their water from a trusted well or to boil their water for at least ten minutes before drinking it. He also wants people to wear sunglasses when they go outside during the day."

  "Sunglasses?"

  "He's seeing more cases of severe sunburns with people who work outside extensively, far more than usual," Reggie explained. "Although he can't prove anything, Dr. Wilson believes that the nuclear explosions from N-Day may have somehow harmed the ozone layer, allowing in more ultraviolet rays from the sun. These rays are normal, but too much can cause severe sunburns and harm your retinas over time. With that said, he doesn't want to alarm anyone. This is nothing like the Nuke Blindness we saw early on from refugees who had witnessed an actual nuclear explosion. Simply a prudent precaution."

  "Better safe than sorry, I guess," said Tim. "Bobby Wilson sounds like a busy man."

  Reggie nodded. "Indeed he is. He wanted me to dispel the rumors and myths going around about the unclean conditions at the hospital. The staff there takes great pains to keep the facility hygienic."

  "I haven't heard that one," said Tim. "What is that about?"

  Reggie sighed. "We are short on antibiotics and Dr. Wilson has been exploring more...let us say...traditional methods to prevent infection and to clean wounds."

  "Could you expound on some of these traditional methods?"

  Reggie looked a little uncomfortable. "Well, the primary one he uses—and please hear me out, folks—is maggots."

  "Maggots!" said Tim.

  "Yes," answered Reggie. "What most people don't realize is that maggots clean wounds by only eating dead flesh and in the process kill necrotic bacteria that leads to gangrene. Maggots are literally a lifesaver in many cases."

  "Sheesh," said Tim. "I think I'll just try not to get injured."

  "Always the best bet," answered Reggie. "Oh, that reminds me, there have also been several problems with infected teeth and people pulling them on their own. This sometimes causes more problems in the long run."

  "Pulling their own teeth?" asked Tim.

  "Yes," answered Reggie. "Because there's little pain-deadening medicine available, people don't see the need to pay a dentist to do what they could at home. But if you are not going to go to a dentist, please leave the infected tooth alone."

  "Just leave it alone?" asked Tim.

  "Yes," answered Reggie. "Doctor Wilson ensures me that the infected tooth will abscess and fall out in its own. It may be painful, but better and safer than pulling it."

  Tim looked a little pale. "Let's move away from medical topics and onto more practical ones. What tips do you have for everyone with winter coming on?"

  "As I've said many times before, mind your gardens. The food you produce will see you through the winter, and you can't rely on the hope that there will be food for sale. Everyone will be looking out for themselves."

  "There've been rumors that the harvest is down," said Tim. "Food prices are up and people are worried."

  "The harvest was good," Reggie said. "A little lower than before N-Day, but that was to be expected. We should have plenty of food for everyone, but people do need to prepare. Not only with food, but also with water and wood and fuel for heating. It could be a long hard winter, and it’s best to prepare for the worst."

  "Thank you, Reggie," said Tim. "I'd like to now talk about some of the topics our listeners have brought to my attention to get your view on them. First of all, how do you feel the new monetary system is working?"

  "Quite well. As you know, the cumbersome trade and barter system we had at first was difficult, but the new currency has alleviated most of those concerns."

  "People seem to have taken to the currency well," said Tim. "Do you feel that is a sign of trust with the government?"

  "I do," answered Reggie. "The currency is backed by iron and gasoline, to some degree. It’s the most valuable substance we now have, and the government is committed to maintaining the solvency of that currency."

  "What about some of the shortages we're seeing in basic items such as paper, light bulbs, batteries, medicine and other things?"

  Reggie shook his head. "Some of these things are just going to be beyond our ability to replace for several years, I'm afraid. The folks at the engineering department over at Murray State University are working hard to find ways to manufacture these items, but it will take time. We will have to learn to live without many of these luxuries."

  "Do you feel these shortages are connected to the militia who guard the libraries and landfills?"

  "Guarding the libraries was one of the directives I passed while I was in office," Reggie said. "Those books are a treasure of information that would be impossible to replace. Anyone can go into a library and read any book they chose. The book simply cannot be removed."

  "What about the landfills and the recent law making the contents federal property?"

  Reggie nodded sadly. "I know it has been popular to go and dig and scavenge in landfills recently. Let's face it. Before N-Day, we threw away and took for granted things that are irreplaceable now, but those areas are now treasure troves. I'm sure the government wants to safeguard what's there for everyone's benefit, not to mention the safety concerns."

  Tim nodded. "Yes, our hearts and prayers go out to little Ashley Zorne who was buried and suffocated under a pile of trash at the Miles Landfill one month ago."

  "Yes, terrible tragedy," said Reggie.

  "But don't you think the current administration is getting a bit heavy-handed these days?" asked Tim. "Not just the seizure of property and the higher taxes, but what about all the public punishments?"

  Reggie sighed. "Yes, this was an issue I had to deal with while in office also. The truth is we simply do not have the manpower or resources to run jails and prisons. People need to be deterred from breaking the law. Sometimes this is a monetary fine and sometimes it is a month working at the iron works over at the Land Between the Lakes."

  "Don't you mean New Harvest County?" asked Tim with a smile.

  "Yes," said Reggie. "I forgot, but back to the punishment question. It comes down to what we are able to practically do that works."

  "Even if that is a public whipping, or being put in stocks, or branding a mark on you?" asked Tim.

  "Yes," said Reggie. "I'd prefer other options, but I don't have alternate solutions. These measures worked for our forefathers when they settled in America. Hopefully, one day we will have other means, but for now, it is the best we can do. After all, no one is forced to stay in the JP. Branding is important for identifying those exiled so they cannot reenter without our knowledge of who they are."

  Tim frowned. "Speaking of exile, it has become a common punishment for anything short of hanging offenses. I've seen families have to choose between accompanying their loved one out into the dangerous world beyond our borders or breaking up their family, perhaps forever."
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  "Again, Tim, I don't have all the answers. No, I don't like it, but what other options do we have? We're lucky to be as well off as we are, and all of this could still vanish."

  "What do you mean by that?" asked Tim with a frown.

  Reggie hesitated, but then went on. "We don't know too much about what is beyond our borders. There is no more United States, but people survived, and there are certainly pockets organizing like us. Many are sad and pitiful and trying to survive, but who says other groups are not forming together and willing to take what they want?"

  "Like Jeb Sampson and the West Tennessee Republic."

  "Yes," answered Reggie. "We have grown close to our Tennessee cousins and now understand their aggression was forced by one deranged man. But it could happen again from some other group of people or some other despot."

  "I've heard good things about WTR President Ethan Schweitzer," said Tim.

  "Yes," answered Reggie. "I had the pleasure of working with him before I left office. A true gentleman and a man of honor."

  "Speaking of you leaving the presidency," said Tim, "is there any possibility of you running for office in the next elections?"

  "Not a chance," he answered without hesitation. "I am happy in my retirement, and besides, I'm no spring chicken anymore. Politics is a young man's game."

  Tim was writing on a piece of paper as he was talking. "Well, that's all the time we have for today folks. Thanks to Reggie Philips for his time here with us today and thank you listeners for spending your Saturday morning with us. Until next time, stay strong, friends."

  Tim turned a switch and a green light went dim, lighting its red counterpart. He then pushed another button and country music began to play. With the hydroelectric dam repaired and running with increased efficiency, the radio station was able to play music when not making announcements.

  "You might want to be careful with that sort of talk," said Reggie.

  "What sort of talk?" asked Tim.

  Reggie lips compressed into a thin smile. "You know damn well what I'm talking about. It might not be a good idea to criticize the current administration for what they are doing. Besides, they do own this radio station and could shut you down if they wanted to."