DISASTER: Too Late to Prep, Page 2

  This was the first clear view Max had of his former Boss. The redness of his eyes testified to the fact he had been crying.

  “Are you okay Sir.”

  “No, I’m not okay, but I’ll get through it. You’re probably wondering why I asked you to come on such short notice.”

  “Yes sir, I am. I could tell by your voice it was serious. I hope your distress isn’t out of concern for me. I’m not upset the company had to scale back. That’s business.”

  “Please call me Wallace. Maxwell, isn’t it?”

  “I prefer Max.”

  “Max, I’ve some distressing news for you. Larry Shepherd, one of the three employees we terminated earlier than the rest, committed suicide. Rebecca from accounting told me the two of you were close.”

  “Damn. I spoke with Larry this morning. I could tell losing his job threw him, but it didn’t cross my mind he was suicidal. If I’d had some indication he was taking it so hard, I would have gone to see him.”

  Wallace said, “It’s a vicious world when a business is forced to divest itself of valued employees. I took the call when Larry’s wife phoned to tell us. She blamed his death on the company.”

  Max spoke. “I can see, in her grief she would want to strike out. I hope you’re handling her with kindness. I know her, and she’ll more than likely call back to apologize.”

  “I did, and yes, she did call back to apologize. Rebecca told me, Meg, Larry’s wife, has no family here. She volunteered to go be with Meg and help her through this. At least he didn’t leave kids behind.”

  “Rebecca’s dependable like that. She has a heart of gold.”

  “Max, the reason I called you in this evening goes beyond Larry’s death. John Headley took an overdose of painkillers and tranquilizers this afternoon. He sent me an email telling me his intentions. I called 911, but the paramedics arrived too late to revive him.”

  Max shook his head back and forth. “Surely not because he had to let a few people go.”

  Wallace drew a deep breath, fighting off a renewal of tears. “Yes, that was part of it. The other part is that this company is going into bankruptcy receivership on Monday. The firm operated in the red for over a year. John spent every cent he had to keep it going, and then spent money he didn’t have. He went deep in debt, praying for contracts to keep all of you employed.

  “He was a decent, loving man. I know because he and I lived together for over twenty years. He didn’t have to kill himself.”

  Wallace lost his battle and his pain burst through with a gasp and a waterfall of tears. Max went to him. Wallace attempted to wave him off, but Max pulled him to his feet and embraced him. Wallace allowed it, giving in to emotion, his wrenching sobs loud in Max’s ear. He felt the man’s tears soak through the thin jacket he wore. It was a full five minutes before Wallace regained his composure enough to speak.

  “I’m okay. You can let go.”

  Max released him and returned to his seat. Wallace sat also, and time passed before he spoke further.

  “Thank you, Max. I’m all alone now, no one, no family. I won’t forget your kindness.”

  “’You’ll be in my family’s prayers.”

  Wallace grappled his way back to where he was and why he was there. “Forgive me. You do need to be with yours. The reason I called you out tonight is to give you your severance check. Because of circumstances, I’m going to advise you to cash it rather than deposit it.

  Wallace removed an envelope from a desk drawer and held it out. Max rose to take it and returned to his chair.

  “There are two checks in the envelope. One is from John. I wrote a check to match his. The total is a little over twenty-three-thousand.”

  Max was astounded. “That’s more than I expected. Thank you.”

  “Do you know why John fired you and Larry? It wasn’t because you two were poor workers. It was because you were his best. You, Larry, and Rebecca, were to be the only employees to receive a severance. He simply didn’t have enough to provide for all seventy of his people.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Wallace. Humbled is too small a word. He and you—.”

  Wallace cut him off. “Let’s not speak of that. You have no idea how many times John sang your praises at home. He was of the opinion there wasn’t a problem you couldn’t solve, and he thought the world of your work ethic. May I ask, what are your plans? You do know there’s not a chance in hell you’re going to find another job in the near future.”

  “My wife and daughter have made that abundantly clear. Seems they’re more world savvy than I am. While I’ve been ignorantly plodding along, they’ve been taking care of our future. We’re moving to the country to live on a farm my wife inherited. We’re going to make an attempt at becoming self-sufficient.”

  “That’s damn smart thinking. Don’t beat yourself for not being aware of the state of things. Most people aren’t. Max, as a businessman, I study trends. Very soon, the shit’s going to hit the fan. I foresee a severe crisis in the banking section within the next couple of months. There isn’t a chance in Hades the government can step in with another bailout as they did in oh-eight. Are you open to some advice that might seem extreme?”

  Max chuckled. “That’s the only kind of advice I’ve been getting since your call yesterday. I’m open to it.”

  “Cash the checks you’re holding. Withdraw whatever money you have in a bank or in securities and convert that into cash. Don’t hold the cash. Buy a small amount of silver, maybe five-thousand. The rest of it, plan on a complete meltdown of society and infrastructure, social and mechanical. Buy anything tradable in such a situation. Guns, ammo, toilet paper, tobacco. Go online and do a search under prepping or apocalyptic survival. Make a list and spend the money before it’s worthless. A lot of people have been planning for decades.”

  “You genuinely think it’s coming to that, to an apocalypse?”

  “The end of the world as we know it. Yes, that’s what’s coming.”

  Max stood. Wallace, you’re scaring me so bad, my hearts racing.”

  “Fear is healthy. I’m glad you told me about your plan to farm. There’re a lot tools and other construction equipment in our warehouse out back. Generators, chainsaws. Things that could come in handy on a farm. Drive around to the warehouse. I’ll open the roll up door so you can drive in and load whatever you can use.”

  “Thanks Wallace, but I’m driving a small car, and it won’t hold much. Besides, couldn’t I be arrested for theft?”

  “We’re not in receivership until Monday. I’ll give you a receipt for anything you take. How about this. I’ll wait here. Go pick up your wife and come back. You can use one of our box-trucks that has an attached lift and take the load to your garage or even straight out to your farm. Bring the truck back tomorrow and just park it in the lot outside.”

  “Wallace, I can’t ask you to do that. You suffered a heartbreaking loss today. You probably need time to yourself.”

  “Max, go get your wife. I’m not going to my empty house tonight. Helping you and your family will be good for me.”

  Because it was a weekend with no school the next day, Dorrie insisted Kelly and Bobby come with them to load the truck. As they neared the office, Max called ahead to let Wallace know they were almost there. Wallace told him he’d have a roll up door open and to drive into the warehouse.

  Even with Wallace helping with the heavier items, it took the family almost three hours to load the truck. Generators, compressors with assorted air driven tools. Chainsaws, power saws and drills, a riding lawn mower, wheelbarrows, rakes, shovels, concrete, and drywall finishing tools.

  The list Wallace was compiling grew to several sheets on a yellow pad. He meticulously listed the serial number of any item that sported one. When they were finished, he told them to keep the hand trucks and pallet jacks they’d used.”

  Putting his pen, he said, “That was a work out. You’re soaked with sweat. Why don’t the four of you clean up in the restrooms and I’l
l have the bill of sale ready in my office,” Wallace suggested.

  Max waited until they were all cleaned and led them to Wallace’s office.

  True to his word, he had the signed bill of sale ready. Wallace then handed him the title for the box truck.

  “Figured there was no reason for you to bring it back. I’ve already signed it over to you. For the truck and the load, you owe me five bucks.”

  Max fished for his wallet. “Wallace, I don’t know what to say.”

  Wallace laughed. “Put your wallet away. Consider the five paid. Let’s go to John’s office. There are more items I’m sure he’d like you to have.”

  John’s office was next to his. Wallace opened a large metal safe. In the safe were several pistols and rifles. The shelves at the bottom held cases and boxes of ammunition.

  Waving a hand at the contents, Wallace said, “I know nothing about guns, but John had a passion for them. I figure the entire lot will fit in the trunk of your car. He kept a list of the weapons and serial numbers. If you want them, I’ll sign his signature to another receipt.”

  Without waiting for her parents to respond, Kelly volunteered to go to the warehouse for boxes and a hand truck. She left on a run, pulling her complaining brother with her.

  Dorrie convinced Max that even though it was late in the evening, they should drive to the farm so they would have the entire weekend to store everything away.

  Before they drove from the warehouse, Max and then Dorrie gave Wallace another hug. Dorrie delivered a kiss to his cheek and then handed him a sheet of paper.

  “It’s a map to our property,” she said. “If you get lonely, don’t hesitate to come out. We’ll have a room for you.”

  Max climbed into the cab of the truck with Kelly riding shotgun. He waited for Dorrie to drive out of the warehouse and then fell in behind her. In his side mirror, he saw Wallace lowering the roll up door. That was the last time he would see him. He found out a few days later that Wallace had held back a pistol. He went to be with John.

  ***

  When they arrived at the farm, the sun was peeking over the tops of the low hills. Max spent the last thirty minutes of the drive, yawning, fighting not to nod off. Dorrie and he decided they should rest before tackling the job of unloading the truck. The clean sheets on the beds brought home his appreciation for the work she and the kids had done during their time there.

  Even though, they’d been up all night, Kelly and Bobby were awake before noon, knocking on their parents’ bedroom door, claiming starvation. Dorrie shook Max. She swung her legs off the side of the bed and sat with a groan.

  “Lord I’m stiff. I wore myself out last night, but it’s time for us to get up. The kids are hungry, and we’re wasting sunlight.”

  Max rolled onto his side to face her. “Aw Mom, do we have to.”

  “No clowning around, Max. We’ve a lot to do. Get dressed and be the man. Number one, light the water heater. We went to bed filthy and sweaty. Not only do we need to shower, the bed sheets will have to be washed.”

  “Yes ma'am. Water heater lit. Where is it?”

  “Basement. Check the furnace while you’re down there. I’m cold. For January in the Blue Ridge, we’re lucky it was warm last night, but that can change.” She stood and surveyed the room and spied her hastily shucked clothing. “Maybe we should have gone home last night. By the time we finish everything we need to do, the clothes we have will smell rank.”

  Max left the bed to join her. “I thought farming was all about stinking.” He leaned towards her and sniffed. “Whoa.”

  Dorrie shoved him playfully away. “Whoa yourself. I don’t even have to lean in your direction to smell you. Come on. Stop messing around and get dressed.”

  Max took his jeans from the floor and pulled them on. “I’m moving, see. What’s for breakfast, I’m starving too.”

  “The only food we have is from when I came out before. Frozen bread in the freezer and a few cans of spam. Spam sandwiches for breakfast and lunch.”

  Max sat on the edge of the bed to put on socks and shoes. “You mean brunch and lupper.” His eyes went to Dorrie’s rear end as she bent to retrieve her running shoes from under a chair. “Nice view baby. You’ve still got it going on.”

  “Yeah, I’m all you’ll ever need, and don’t you forget it.”

  Max noticed her blush. He shrugged into his pullover and moved to pull her into a hug. “You’ll always be everything I need. I love you Dorrie.” He moved his hands to cup her face and kissed her.”

  Dorrie was surprised. “Wow, you haven’t kissed me like that in years.”

  “That, along with a bunch of other things, is going to change. Seeing how hurt Wallace was by losing John made me think about how much I need you. I love you Dorrie.”

  “I love you too. Now show the love and get me some heat and hot water.”

  Max located the furnace and water heater at the far end of the basement. Both were propane burners, fed from a large tank behind the house. It took only a moment to light the water heater, but the pilot on the furnace refused to stay lit.

  Before he left the basement, he did a survey. The room was a sizable, open-space, with hand-hewn timbers supporting the floor above it. He paced it off and estimated it was fifty-by-thirty. The walls built strong and thick with mortared blocks of native granite. Sturdy shelving along one of the walls held several hundred glass jars arranged by size.

  There was a complete kitchen on the opposite wall. A three-basin stainless steel sink. A large commercial range, and refrigerator, along with six vertical freezers. The refrigeration units were off. The open doors revealed they were clean.

  Entering the kitchen upstairs, the unique smell of frying spam assailed his nostrils. Kelly was at the counter prying slices from a frozen loaf of bread. As Kelly worked them free, Dorrie would put them into the toaster.

  Max joined them, putting his arms around their waists and looking at the strips sizzling in the frying pan. “Spam, don’t eat it, its people.”

  Kelly made a face. “Eww. Dad, that’s so yesterday, but still nasty.”

  “Old, but effective. Where’s your brother?”

  The toaster popped up. Dorrie removed the thawed slices and inserted two more. “He went out the front door a minute ago. Would you let him know to come wash his hands? We’re almost done here.”

  Max gave them a final squeeze, and then went out the front door to round up Bobby. His heart gave a start when he saw Bobby at his mom’s car. He had the trunk open and was aiming one of the pistols from John Headley’s collection at a tree.”

  “Bobby, put the pistol back in the trunk,” he shouted.

  Bobby turned towards him, and the pistol turned with him. Max moved from in front of the barrel.

  “I wasn’t going to shoot it,” Bobby yelled back.

  “Put the damn pistol back now!”

  Bobby realized he’d done something to piss his dad off and hurried to comply with Max’s order.

  “Come here, son,” Max said. He waited until Bobby joined him on the porch. He saw that Bobby was near tears.

  “Bobby, that’s the last time you touch any weapon without express permission and without an adult with you. Do you understand me? Do I have your word?”

  “Yes sir, but I wasn’t going to shoot it.”

  “I know you weren’t, but people are killed all the time by accident. I’m not angry. You know the rule now. Your mom said to wash your hands. Spam sandwiches are up.”

  Kelly volunteered to clear the table and wash the dishes. Max led the other two to the box truck and raised the sliding door.

  “There has to be thousands of dollars worth of equipment in there,” Dorrie said.

  Max agreed. “I kept sort of a running guesstimate as we loaded. I’d say there’s at least fifty or sixty grand’s worth. The truck would add another forty or forty-five.” He turned to speak to Bobby.

  “Son, I think I saw a pair of gloves on the night stand in my room. Run get th
em for me, please. Meet us at the barn.”

  Max and Dorrie climbed into the cab of the truck. After they settled into their seats, Max spoke about something that was bugging him. “I don’t have any gloves. That was an excuse to get Bobby out of the way for a minute. Dorrie, I can’t get past the feeling we stole this stuff. Not the guns. They were personal property.”

  “I sort of feel the same way Max, but let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth. The way Wallace explained it, technically, it’s possible we shouldn’t have taken the load, but the company isn’t in receivership yet. With the signed receipt, the only one who’d be liable is he. The worst they would do to us is confiscating it. To do that, Wallace would have to tell the authorities we have it. I don’t believe he would. They may not even know anything is missing.”

  “You’re probably right. Like you say, leave the gift alone.” Max cranked the truck and drove to the entrance to the barn. The large, double doors were closed. He slid from the cab to the ground, removed a long horizontal pole from its hooks, and swung the doors wide. They wanted to swing back, but he used two concrete blocks, obviously in place for that purpose. Bobby and Kelly arrived from the house. Dorrie exited the truck and joined them at the entrance in time to hear Max tell Bobby that he must have left his gloves at home.

  Max led his family down the dimly lit long aisle towards the other end of the barn. Livestock stalls on one side. A tractor and various farm implements on the other side took up most of the space at the front. Max looked into the stalls as they walked past them.

  At the far end of the barn, adjacent to the rear doors, were two wooden platforms with a few dozen old bales of hay stacked on them. The platform on the right sported a staircase attached to the wall, leading to the hayloft.

  A simple, hinged section of two-by-four held the rear doors closed. Max opened them, and the barn flooded with sunlight. Blinking his eyes and turning away from the bright light, Max spoke to his clan.