Chapter 3
Deer and chickens safely broken down, cooked up, and canned, Alex and Etan escaped the warm air of the cannery for the empty football and baseball fields next door. Idle talk over the long, difficult winter had given way to an eagerness to get started, to turn the huge expanse of cleared land over to food production.
A few Wolf Branch natives grumbled about the change, around town and at the organized - and closed - council meetings. But none of them in any meaningful or serious way.
The fields were more scenic than most, with the steep hills covered with trees rising up all around them. But the value of flat, cleared land in a mountain town was too high to ignore.
Just another growing pain for their new community, and a reluctant admission of how much things had changed. No one in the new world would honestly argue that they’d ever have need of the carefully groomed and maintained spaces once set aside for large-scale sports.
Everyone left, including the kids, worked way too hard to have need of such a diversion anyway.
After the flood of tools they’d gotten when the community garden started up, Alex knew what they’d get for much more land would outgrow their tiny shed beside the cannery. That left him and Etan sorting through the drafty old equipment shed sitting between the baseball and football fields.
One dusty window opposite the door gave just enough light to show how carelessly everything had been thrown inside.
Alex tried to envision uses for the odd workout equipment stacked on shelves and on the concrete floor with more success than he’d expected. A bundle of flags could work for keeping seeded crops straight, along with various sizes of traffic cones and the square plots for agility training.
A slightly modified tackling sled would make short work of taking up the grass sod, with one of their alcohol-burning ATVs pulling it along.
But much as he might want to, Alex couldn’t work out how they could convert the charging dummies nearly as tall as he was into anything useful.
Etan turned with his arms full of discarded practice shoes and laughed so hard he almost dropped all of them.
“The way you’re standing and staring at it. Like you expect it to head butt you or something.”
Alex snorted and pushed the vaguely human-shaped thing backward. It slowly rolled back, then up and toward him.
“I guess we could turn it into a scarecrow,” he said. “I think we have enough uniform rags out here to outfit every one of them.”
Etan dropped the shoes in a pile on the snowy grass outside, then knelt to gather up knee and elbow pads.
“I never realized how much of this stuff translated to gardening when I was wearing it.”
Alex smiled, running his hands along Etan’s shoulders.
“I didn’t know you played football. My father wanted me to, of course. By the time I was old enough, he was used to me not living up to his expectations. Tell me about your playing days.”
“Not that much to tell. I was small and fast enough to always make the team, and I had fun with it. I was better at baseball, but not good enough at either to worry about it by the time I got to college.”
“Wish I’d seen you play,” Alex said. He took the armful of smelly padding, some of it rotten and crumbling, and dumped it outside beside the shoes. “I probably would have enjoyed the games a lot more. Maybe you can try on your old uniforms for me sometime.”
Etan laughed and shook his head. He’d never begrudged Alex his recurring fantasies since they’d moved here, made all the more vivid by the collection of photos Etan’s grandparents left in the house they now shared. He played along more often than not, to Alex’s ongoing delight.
“I’d be happy to,” Etan said with a wink. “If you can stand the lingering stench of adolescent boy.”
By the time they finished, there was more than enough room inside to store anything short of a full-sized tractor.
“I’ll let Linda know to get the word out for equipment people don’t need,” Alex said, leaning back with his fists pressed against his lower back. “Hopefully Walt and the rest will take pity and tell me what it’s all for. My Wisconsin childhood didn’t prepare me for life as a farmer as well as you’d think.”
“The Council will be thrilled. More to debate and argue about.”
Alex considered, but only for a few seconds. He had the strongest hunch that Etan’s reluctance to join the Council was finally starting to crack.
But he still needed to go carefully.
“Iris tells me a few people on the Council are starting to have dreams about this place,” he said, watching Etan’s face. “The ones you had back in January about clearing all the grass out, planting the fields. Not that I’m supposed to know about that.”
“Yeah? Well, good. They can thank us for emptying this shed out and help us with the rest.”
Etan pulled the door closed and leaned against the shed with his arms crossed, looking up under his eyebrows at Alex.
Yep. He knew what was coming.
“They have every dream you do, E. But they have them a long time after you do. You’re out ahead, almost every time.”
Etan shrugged, but he stared down at his feet now.
“Just say it, Alex. I’ve been hearing it from Mom, Iris, Gena. Half the people in Wolf Branch are afraid to bring it up to me, the other half won’t shut up about it. Let’s see where you stand.”
Alex leaned against the wall beside him, their shoulders touching.
“You don’t have to wonder about that. I’m always going to stand with you. But in this case, I’ll say it. You need to be on the Council. We need to be, both of us. You’re the strongest dreamer we have. We might not be finished with threats we need to see coming.”
“I can’t even remember the damn dreams. How pathetic is that? I’m not sure how much good I’d do them.”
Alex looked away to hide his smile. They’d gone from a firm “No” to “Not right now” to “I don’t belong.”
Almost there.
“Most of the dreamers don’t seem to remember,” he said. “Iris doesn’t, sometimes not even after she finishes the paintings. Not until Gena sees what they mean. You told me last year you know when I’m telling you the truth about the dreams. I think most of us are set up to work in pairs. Did you miss the part where I said we both need to do this?”
He reached over and took Etan’s hand, the warmth reassuring against the increasingly chilly air.
“You don’t realize how people trust you,” Alex said. “How they want to follow you. They all did when we first got here, with getting the cannery up and running. That was before anyone else talked about the dreams. Whether you want to be or not, you’re a leader. We need all the real leaders we can get.”
Etan sighed and squeezed Alex’s hand.
“Are you ever going to stop asking?”
“Yes. When you agree to go.” Alex stopped and reconsidered at Etan’s raised eyebrows. “Never mind, I’m not leaving you an opening that big. I’ll stop asking when you actually do go.”
Etan surprised Alex by laughing under his breath and leaning over to kiss his cheek.
“Okay, okay. I don’t like it, but I’ll do it for you. Can you do something for me? Wait a couple of months, for one thing. I promise I’ll go, but give me some time to get ready.”
“Done. They’re not meeting all that often anyway. I promise I won’t bug you about it again until at least June.”
“Thank you. And maybe see if they can have a subcommittee or informal meeting or whatever they want to call it? If I have to walk in there in front of a huge crowd like I’m auditioning or defending a thesis, I’ll never make it. I think I can handle talking to a smaller group first.”
Tension he hadn’t quite been aware of left Alex’s shoulders and neck. He hadn’t wanted to admit it with Etan so jumpy, but this wasn’t a simple matter of keeping their hard-won place in their new community.
Alex had a feeling, far more deep and resonant than a hunch, that he and Etan and everyone else in Wolf Branch weren’t finished fighting to survive the end of the world.
Some part of him knew more struggles waited, and wanted every possible advantage they could get.
“I’ll see what I can do, sweetie,” he said, pulling Etan after him and away from the shed. “If you’ll take me home and figure out how to warm both of us up.”