rug-rats will leave and stay at the new homesite to unload goods on that end. The others will remain here to load out more belongings. Since the new home is furnished, the major items needed are several wood fired cook stoves and the piping and fittings to connect them."
I looked at the people in our group besides me and Kira: Paige and Mitch, Junior and Suzie, Vince and Grace, Richard and Carmen and their adult kids Bryon and Charise. Then there was Vivian, Larry and Brittney, Able and Allen plus thirteen kids under the age of ten.
"How many of you have started packing?" I asked as I grinned at the group. Everyone raised their hands. I was proud of this bunch; there wasn't a slacker among us. "Who wants to go in the first bunch to move?" Everyone raised their hands. "Looks like I'll have to decide. Mitch and Richard's families go on the first trip; they know the layout and will be a big help getting everyone settled in. Vivian, how about you, Larry and Brittney going first, too?" Brittney fisted the air and I took that as a yes.
Byron spoke. "We made that trip to Fort Leonard Wood. There were still field rations on the shelves and a bunch of clothing, mostly in small and larger sizes. We must have brought several hundred pairs of boots, again in small and larger sizes. Then we stumbled into the Military Police headquarters building. We hit the jackpot there on handheld weapons and a truck bed full of ammunition. Used clothing was hanging in lockers and we cleaned that out, too." I reached my hand to each of the four scavengers to congratulate them as he continued. "That's not all. Then we found the base laundry and found more clothing, bedding and towels."
I clasped him on the back. "The next time I need scroungers, I'm sending you four." The four of them grinned from ear to ear at the well deserved praise.
Later that afternoon and evening, many tears were shed as friends and relatives said emotionally difficult good-byes brought about by our conflicting ideology. That would continue all week until the last of us left. Over the following five days, I spoke to Albert, Morgan, Andrea and Martin Sr. All of them felt they were too old to make the arduous move and start over again. Albert was the only one who hadn't put on excess weight nor slowed down, but he felt he was needed there for his blacksmith skills. Vince would take the spare forge and tools with us. Andrea was the only one who was adamant about removing all the weapons. The others who decided to stay shook hands warmly, but their minds were made up. I didn't argue with them but thanked them sincerely for all their past support and hard work. That they couldn't accept the basis of my position didn't upset me; the danger they had chosen to expose their families to did.
Wagons left, returned and left again until all our possessions and small livestock were hauled away.
At the end of that week's work, Kira yelled, "Giddy Up" and slapped the reins on the two hind horses pulling the last wagon load of belongings. She'd told me the date was May Third, 2033. I sat atop a large roan stallion and waved to the few folks who'd come to say final farewells. Adam Whycoff had a wistful look as he spoke to me for several minutes before I turned my mount and rode off after the wagon.
Half of our group was in the garden patch harvesting string beans, cucumbers, late sweet corn and tomatoes. Some of the younger children had eagerly pitched in at first, but they soon grew bored with the work and turned to chasing each other in play. Before lunch, most of the men put our shirts back on to protect against the miserably hot early August sun.
We'd barely gotten started working after eating when Brittney Holescheck heard them first. "Look, over there on the road. People are shouting and waving at us."
We stared where she pointed and saw a small group of people scurrying in our direction. I recognized Morgan's lumbering gait first. We dropped our harvest baskets to the
I looked at the people in our group besides me and Kira: Paige and Mitch, Junior and Suzie, Vince and Grace, Richard and Carmen and their adult kids Bryon and Charise. Then there was Vivian, Larry and Brittney, Able and Allen plus thirteen kids under the age of ten.
"How many of you have started packing?" I asked as I grinned at the group. Everyone raised their hands. I was proud of this bunch; there wasn't a slacker among us. "Who wants to go in the first bunch to move?" Everyone raised their hands. "Looks like I'll have to decide. Mitch and Richard's families go on the first trip; they know the layout and will be a big help getting everyone settled in. Vivian, how about you, Larry and Brittney going first, too?" Brittney fisted the air and I took that as a yes.
Byron spoke. "We made that trip to Fort Leonard Wood. There were still field rations on the shelves and a bunch of clothing, mostly in small and larger sizes. We must have brought several hundred pairs of boots, again in small and larger sizes. Then we stumbled into the Military Police headquarters building. We hit the jackpot there on handheld weapons and a truck bed full of ammunition. Used clothing was hanging in lockers and we cleaned that out, too." I reached my hand to each of the four scavengers to congratulate them as he continued. "That's not all. Then we found the base laundry and found more clothing, bedding and towels."
I clasped him on the back. "The next time I need scroungers, I'm sending you four." The four of them grinned from ear to ear at the well deserved praise.
Later that afternoon and evening, many tears were shed as friends and relatives said emotionally difficult good-byes brought about by our conflicting ideology. That would continue all week until the last of us left. Over the following five days, I spoke to Albert, Morgan, Andrea and Martin Sr. All of them felt they were too old to make the arduous move and start over again. Albert was the only one who hadn't put on excess weight nor slowed down, but he felt he was needed there for his blacksmith skills. Vince would take the spare forge and tools with us. Andrea was the only one who was adamant about removing all the weapons. The others who decided to stay shook hands warmly, but their minds were made up. I didn't argue with them but thanked them sincerely for all their past support and hard work. That they couldn't accept the basis of my position didn't upset me; the danger they had chosen to expose their families to did.
Wagons left, returned and left again until all our possessions and small livestock were hauled away.
At the end of that week's work, Kira yelled, "Giddy Up" and slapped the reins on the two hind horses pulling the last wagon load of belongings. She'd told me the date was May Third, 2033. I sat atop a large roan stallion and waved to the few folks who'd come to say final farewells. Adam Whycoff had a wistful look as he spoke to me for several minutes before I turned my mount and rode off after the wagon.
Half of our group was in the garden patch harvesting string beans, cucumbers, late sweet corn and tomatoes. Some of the younger children had eagerly pitched in at first, but they soon grew bored with the work and turned to chasing each other in play. Before lunch, most of the men put our shirts back on to protect against the miserably hot early August sun.
We'd barely gotten started working after eating when Brittney Holescheck heard them first. "Look, over there on the road. People are shouting and waving at us."
We stared where she pointed and saw a small group of people scurrying in our direction. I recognized Morgan's lumbering gait first. We dropped our harvest baskets to the
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