chapter3

onday used to be Girl Scout day. Her old scout uniform caught Lisa’s eye as she scanned her closet for something to wear. It was just a useless piece of clothing now, because Troop 719 no longer existed. The uniform still belonged to her, but she belonged to very little.

Once she had been a Girl Scout, a fifth-grader, a daughter, a ballet dancer, a friend, and so many other kinds of “belonging” that she couldn’t name them all. Now she belonged only to herself and to Todd.

Anxious to start her trip to the farm, Lisa did the morning chores as fast as she could. She made the bed, wound the clocks, dressed, checked the doors and windows, and prepared breakfast in less then 20 minutes.

Todd asked his regular breakfast question: “What are we going to do today, Lisa?”

She started to tell him that he should try fishing, but she hesitated. She had been too bossy lately. Young as he was, Todd was her partner, and Lisa knew that it would be better if they acted as a team.

A suggestion would be better than an order. “Do you think you could catch some fish at Perry’s Pond?” she asked.

“I’ll find some worms,” Todd volunteered, putting on his coat. “Where’s the shovel?”

She helped him find it and then watched as he dragged the huge shovel toward the Triangle. She smiled, feeling certain that she would be the one finally digging up the worms.

Todd returned from the woods a few minutes later. He’s given up already, thought Lisa—but she was wrong. There was a giant smile on his face and a collection of worms, twigs, and leaves in his coat pocket. They picked out the biggest worms and put them in a coffee can. After she strung the bamboo pole, Todd started out for the pond.

“Come back by ten and don’t fall in the water,” she said. Oops! she thought. I’m giving orders again.

After he left, she eagerly set out on her own adventure. On Chidester Street she found a red, high-sided wagon. In it were a few small cars and a toy truck that she would bring home for Todd. The wagon itself would be perfect for carrying whatever she might find at the farms.

At home, she tied the wagon securely to the back of her bicycle. If she did find a chicken, she would need a cage of some kind. The wicker clothes hamper that she loaded into the wagon would work.

She would be gone for several hours, so she pocketed the last candy bar to keep the hunger away. She prepared Todd’s snack—soda crackers and a packet of low-cal instant breakfast mixed with water. She hated the taste of this diet stuff, but she was very glad to have it.

Todd returned at ten without any fish. He hid his disappointment behind talk about tomorrow’s fishing trip, about how he needed more time, and about how he was sure he could catch fish for them. “Fishing takes patience,” he said, in a tone of voice that reminded Lisa of Uncle Pete.

But he turned back into a sassy little brother and threw a tantrum when he learned that Lisa was going on a trip without him. “Why not?” he asked, finally, when he realized that she wasn’t changing her mind.

“Because of the gangs I’ve been hearing at night. They are starting to steal from other families like us. Soon they’ll be out in the daytime, and we have to be careful. Don’t you want to be the guard of our house?”

“I guess so,” he answered. He had a familiar look of worry. “How long will you be gone?”

“Remember,” she said, mounting her bike, “stay in the house, keep the doors locked, and if anyone should try to break in, hide in the crawl space under the stairs. Keep the gun with you all the time.” She added, “Your breakfast is on the table.”

She rode off, with the wagon clattering along behind her. On Riford Street, she saw a few faces peek from the door of a boarded-up house. She pedaled as slowly as possible, but the metal wagon still banged against the pavement, making too much noise.

A girl from Beth Bush’s house recognized her and began running to meet her. For some reason, she stopped abruptly after two or three paces and then ran back inside. Lisa saw this from the corner of her eye and wondered what had stopped the girl.

Which one of my friends would be living at the Bush’s house? she wondered. It looked vaguely like Becky Cliff, but it was hard to be sure. Whoever it was had not been too lucky. Her face was pale and smudged with dirt. Her hair and clothes looked neglected.

Those kids are probably wondering what I’m up to, thought Lisa. They can see that I’m off to find supplies, but they can’t guess why I’m headed away from all the houses and stores. I hope I’m the first to think of this. I’ll be mad if I pedal all the way out to these farms just to find them empty like everything else.

Lisa’s leg muscles were beginning to ache, but her mind was so busy with thoughts of farms and fields that she didn’t notice the pain. There just has to be lots of food there, she thought. After all, that’s where food comes from.

At North Avenue, she decided to rest her legs. After pulling the bike into a deserted gas station, she sat for a while in the weak winter sun, using a gas pump for a backrest. She ate the candy bar, but it made her thirsty. A water faucet was fixed to the outside wall of the station. Perhaps there was still enough pressure in the tank to force out a little trickle of water.

To her surprise, the water came rushing out. After taking a long drink, she returned to her seat by the pump.

As she sat and stared at the big, empty road, Lisa became aware of its stillness. There was not one single car, not a sign of life anywhere.

She had made all her other visits to this intersection in the family car. Before leaving the station, they always had to wait patiently for a break in the long stream of cars. Now there was no traffic at all. The road seemed huge and strange without it.

Now’s my chance to break a rule without being punished, she thought. There was no one around to tell her to look both ways before crossing the street.

She pedaled hard, held her eyes straight ahead, and crossed the intersection while looking straight ahead. She laughed out loud, and then shouted, “Many rules have become useless!” But no one heard.

Fifteen minutes later, Lisa was pedaling past farms and fields. She chose the farm that looked most inviting. It had large, freshly painted buildings and a long white fence that ran for a hundred yards or so before disappearing into a thick forest. She wheeled past the fence and parked her bike by the largest barn.

What she saw inside the barn made her feel sick. The cows had been left in their stalls with too little food. They were all dead. It was a horrible sight, and she stood for only a moment in the midst of it.

Afraid to venture into the other farm buildings, she turned her attention to the crops—but there were none. The farmer had harvested the fields long ago, and nothing remained but brown stubs and clods of dirt.

Lisa looked toward the farmhouse. The rear door was wide open, so she went inside. She could see that the house had never been looted. A few squirrels and mice had moved in, but otherwise the rooms were undisturbed.

To the finder of this note:

We have loved this farm and our family has worked it for over forty years. Now we must give it up, and we have no children to leave it to.

Please come to live on our farm. The cows will give you fine milk. The chickens can provide eggs. If you look in the study, you will find a case of books and notes that will help you learn all you need to know about farming.

In a world without adults, you will need a simple way to live. Take this farm. It makes us happy to think that some young children will choose our place to make their new lives.

Sincerely,

Winifred Crowl

P.S. The cookie jar is filled with oatmeal and chocolate-chip cookies. The pantry has a supply of canned goods.

I think I am the last to die. I know of no other adult who is still alive. I tried to get out to feed the cattle or let them go, but I fainted and had to come back inside.

I’ve waited and waited. I thought you might come around while I was still alive, but now I don’t think so.

While I wait, I think about you. How frightening it must be to find yourself alone in a world without the grown-ups that once made it run. There must be fear and sadness all around you. Be brave, children, be strong.

You must figure out how to make things work again—like this farm and the other things that make life so easy. You can do it. It will take time and work, but you can do it.

Another sentence was started and then crossed out. Maybe the woman didn’t have the time to finish it. Or, more likely, she just couldn’t dream up any good advice for the new world. She couldn’t begin to imagine what that world would be like.

But she had come pretty close. With the first tears she had shed in a long while, Lisa surrendered to the kindness in the woman’s words. All this time I’ve been truly alone and her note . . . it’s . . . it’s the last I’ll ever hear from those people.

She sat in silence for a long time, letting the woman’s words repeat themselves in her mind. “Be brave . . . strong . . . find out how it runs . . . .” Lisa knew that she and Todd would not take over the farm. They loved their own home too much.

She brought herself back to the present. No time to waste here, she thought, shaking herself back into action. Before leaving by the back door, she used a large bag to collect flour, canned vegetables, and other supplies from the pantry.

Outside, a chicken darted around the corner of the house and hurried toward her with a haste that seemed to say, “Glad to see you!” Lisa was definitely glad to see the hen. With no effort at all, she lifted the clucking bird into the wicker basket.

The girl was swept up in a sudden mood of happiness. Although she hadn’t found all that she had hoped for, the woman’s note, the homemade cookies, and the live hen encouraged her. If only her wagon were a little bigger . . .

The good mood brought a reckless idea to her. It was an idea that made her laugh a bold, confident laugh. Instead of making endless supply trips with the bike and wagon, she would learn to drive the car. Today!

Her father’s words ran through her mind. “Stick the key in the ignition, turn the key, put it into Drive, and go.’’ He had said them so many times to her mother, sometimes apologizing for his bossiness. But Lisa was happy that she remembered his repetitious directions. They would give her enough to go on. She would soon remember the others, and she would be driving! Lisa couldn’t wait to see the bewildered look on the faces of the Riford Street kids when she made her first trip in a car.

She barely noticed the passing scenery on her bike ride home. She was thinking about the car ride. She could do it! As she passed North Avenue, the gas station, and the blank, peering faces on Riford Street, she rehearsed the details of her plan. Her father’s instructions came to her clearly now, as if they had been stored on tape somewhere in her brain, waiting to be called into use. “Keep it in park till you’re ready to go . . . let it warm up a minute . . . look around you . . . keep your foot on the brake . . . put the shift lever in Drive . . . let up on the brake . . . not too much gas . . . slowly now . . .”

The driveway of her house appeared. Quickly, she pulled the wagon and bike into the garage. The sight of the big car made her stomach feel funny. “I’ll never—” she started to say, but stopped, knowing that she must try it. She emptied the wagon and called out to Todd to tell him her plans.

“I didn’t say we, Todd. I have to try this alone.” But it was too late to avoid his outburst. She wished that she had used a different way to tell him.

Finally he stopped arguing, and they made peace. “It’s dangerous, and I have to learn how to drive first,” she explained. “You can go some other time.”

Lisa drew a map of her course and traced the route to North Avenue with her finger. “If I’m not back by three-thirty, come looking for me.”

He watched her climb into the car. “Be careful, Lisa.” His warning surprised her. Was he imagining his own fate if something actually did go wrong?

She sat behind the wheel and struggled to adjust the thick, cushioned seat. The dashboard seemed to loom above her, and her feet barely touched the pedals. Lisa was frightened. Ten-year-old girls just didn’t drive cars. What made her think that she could?

Her body shook in silence for a long time. “Damn tears!” she said out loud. Then she laughed at her first real swear word. Somehow it made her feel better. Wiping the blur from her eyes, she said it again, louder this time.

They needed those supplies, and getting them would take 10 trips with the wagon. Besides, someone else might find the stuff before she could get it all moved. If she could learn to drive this car, then she and Todd could really stock up. That would give them time to make better plans.

The future had not been very clear, but now she could imagine months and years of finding food and trying to survive. The car would help a lot. She looked at the fuel gauge—full. Good thing the car is facing out to the street, she thought. I’d never be able to back it out.

She remembered the instructions again. “Turn the key . . .” The engine came alive with a powerful roar. As if frightened by the sound, her foot jumped away from the pedal. The roar became a soft whir.

“Look all around you.” As Lisa recalled the command, her eyes traced a circle around the car and passed a pale boy—her brother—framed by the garage door.

“Keep your foot on the brake . . . put the shift lever in Drive . . . let up on the brake . . .” The car crept forward.

It seemed that she was flying to the end of the driveway. She turned the wheel a little too sharply and began driving across the Coles’ lawn. There was a crunching sound, and then Lisa saw a clump of broken plastic where Mr. Cole’s Rollerblades had been lying in the grass. If he were still alive, he would have been angry.

“Not too much gas . . . slowly . . . .” Her foot hadn’t touched the gas pedal, yet she was still moving. Why am I moving? Is something wrong? In a panic, she stepped down hard on the brake. The car screeched to a stop as her head banged against the steering wheel. It was too late to recall her father’s words: “Easy on the brakes!” Lisa was stunned.

In a few moments her head cleared, but it still ached above her right eye. Dummy, she thought. Easy on the brakes! She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

The nervousness began to leave her. She eased up on the brake and set off very slowly, aware of the many astonished eyes that were following her.

Her whole body was working to control the car. She felt as though she had become a part of the machine. “Don’t you worry, Toddy-boy,” she muttered. “I’ll be back soon.”

For weeks, Lisa had longed for the sight and sound of a moving automobile. A passing car would have meant that not all the adults were gone, and that the nightmare wasn’t true. Now she was thankful that there was no traffic. It made her task much easier.

Slowly she guided the car toward the farm. Down Riford, to St. Charles, to Swift Road, across North Avenue. On the straight stretches of road, she practiced moving the brake and gas pedals. Her top speed of 10 miles per hour seemed like 100.

At the farm, she loaded the car all the way to the ceiling and then cautiously inched her way back toward home. As she pulled into the driveway, Lisa was deep in thought. It would have taken at least six full days with the wagon to get this much stuff. If she didn’t waste gas, this car could save their lives. She had never thought about a car that way before.

Proudly, she honked the horn. Todd ran out to meet her, and together they unloaded the supplies. When the car was empty, she said, “Todd, it’s only three and I have time for another trip. Carry all this stuff in-to the house. Put all the canned things in the hiding place under the stairs. If you run out of room, use the freezer. It will be a good storage space that we can lock. If there still isn’t enough room in the freezer, use the washer and dryer.”

“The gangs probably won’t look there if they break in. You can put all the tools and other stuff that isn’t food in the furnace. Just slide up the furnace door.”

He stared at the huge pile of food. “Okay, Lisa, but hurry back. I’m hungry.”

She pulled some cookies from her pocket, then said, “I’ve got a surprise treat for you tonight. You’ll like it.” By the time she had the car started again, the cookies were gone.

As she drove away, some new, hidden eyes followed her. Their expression was not astonishment. It was something quite different.

I should have been more careful, thought Lisa. Maybe a gang saw the load I brought home. It was dumb to honk the horn and then leave Todd unprotected with all that stuff in the driveway. But she couldn’t turn back—she still had time for one more load.

After reaching the farm and loading the car once again, Lisa hurried back. Already the driveway was empty. The little rascal must have run up the stairs with every load. She happily promised herself to tell him two stories that night.

Realizing all that she had to get done before dark, Lisa rushed to unload the supplies into the garage. They could hide them later if necessary. Tired, she rested a moment against the car before making an-other trip to the garage. “What a magnificent thing, that car—”

Suddenly a rock smashed into the rear windshield. Then Lisa heard a laugh from the Triangle woods. In an instant, it all became clear. “Todd!” she cried, as she ran into the house. Where was he? She searched the rooms. He was gone. “Todd! Todd!” No answer.

He was nowhere to be seen. The upstairs was silent, empty. As she walked past the hiding place she heard a muffled, frightened sob. She knew where he was. The light from the open doorway fell upon his face. He was bleeding.

“Oh, Todd . . . oh, Todd.” He looked at her and clung to her. For a long time, she couldn’t speak.

“I . . . I . . . was bringing things into the house when they came. They took our food. They were mean to me, Lisa.”

“I don’t know. They pushed me and hit me and said we couldn’t have that stuff.” He stopped crying.

She studied his injuries—a bloody lip and some minor bruises. She dried his tears and blotted the blood from his lip with a towel. “Rest here on the couch, and I’ll make a supper.”

He was pleased when she served the Spam and noodles, and his fright disappeared altogether when she offered him a candy bar for dessert.

The gang had only taken what was in the driveway. So the chicken was gone. But they hadn’t bothered to look in the house. Perhaps she had interrupted them, though she couldn’t imagine why they would be afraid of her.

Before securing the house that evening, Lisa locked the car and hid the key. Later, in their small room, she stared into the candle flame. She was too tired to blow it out and too excited for sleep, so she thought about the day that had just passed. It seemed that things were beginning to take shape, but she wasn’t happy about what had happened to Todd.

First thing tomorrow, she had to find new hiding places for the supplies. The house also needed some defenses. Her thoughts drifted back to their bed, and she became aware, without looking, that Todd was wide awake and thinking, too.

“Hey, Todd.” Her voice was loud in the silence of the study. “What are you thinking about?”

There was a boy about your age, Todd, who lived many years ago. He and his older sister were living in a poor old house, alone, because their parents were gone, just like ours. The other people of the town were very poor, and they didn’t have much time to help the two orphans out, so the boy and girl had to take care of themselves.

The town hadn’t always been poor. There used to be a big factory where the men and women worked. But the owner of the factory died, and no one wanted to keep it going anymore. Many people moved away, but a few families stayed. They got poorer and poorer, but they stayed.

The father of the boy and girl had held a good job in the factory. It was his work to design the candles. For many years, candles that he designed were sold all over the world. Some were plain, and others came in beautiful shapes and colors. Christmas was the best time of year for the town because the factory sold thousands of Christmas candles.

After the father died suddenly, their mother kept the children alive by raising chickens and vegetables. But one day, she became sick. Her illness lasted a long time, and she had to stay in bed. So she taught the boy and girl how to care for the chickens and how to tend the garden. Each morning they would take eggs and vegetables to the highway and sell them to the passersby. Their store was a large table with a sign that the girl had made.

Even after their mother died, the children kept selling chickens and vegetables on the highway. They earned very little, but it was enough to buy more food. There was no school, but they kept busy. In fact, their life was sort of like ours is now.

One day, while the girl was at the stand, some boys came to steal their chickens. They were mean to the little boy and hit him. He was afraid, and sad too, because he couldn’t stop them. He knew that the chickens were very important.

When the girl came home and found what had happened, she cried a lot. Then the little boy started crying, because if his sister cried, it must be very bad. She hardly ever cried.

The little boy went to bed and thought about what would become of them. He thought he was no good to anyone, and he said to himself over and over again, “You couldn’t fight those boys or even save the chickens.” He thought, sadly, that there wasn’t time for him to grow up to be helpful, because they would starve first. He felt like a coward.

But he knew that feeling sorry for himself was a waste of time. Suddenly, he had an idea that stopped all of his sad thoughts. He knew what had to be done and that he could help.

He woke his sister and proudly told her his plan. “When the candle factory was still working, everything was okay. But after the factory stopped, everyone became poor like us. So let’s open the candle factory!”

His sister didn’t say a word. He thought that she didn’t like his idea, but he continued, “We can make candles just like father used to for Christmas presents. It’s easy, and people like candles!” He was excited.

Still his sister said nothing. He was sure his idea would work, and all his cowardly thoughts seemed gone forever. “It will work! Don’t you think it will work?” he asked.

“Yes,” said his sister, “I think you’re right. Christmas is coming and people will buy candles. The factory is still sitting here. Maybe we can talk to some of the townspeople to see if they want to open the factory again.”

The little boy went to sleep, feeling very happy and proud.

The next day, the two children went to see every family in the town. But nobody wanted to help. Many said, “We don’t know how to run a candle factory.” Some said they were too busy. Others laughed at the boy, making jokes about the “little businessman.”

He didn’t care. He was sure his idea would work, so he went with his sister to the candle factory to look around. They found that all the candle-making machines had been taken away. The only thing remaining was a supply of wax. But it would be enough to start with.

They used what was left of their money to buy more wax and coloring and made their candles by hand. They heated the wax over the stove and mixed in the color. Before the wax cooled, they poured it into different sizes of cans that held string down the middle for the wicks. As the days went by, their candles got better and better. They were too busy to wonder if they would succeed.

The girl made a huge sign that said “Christmas Candles—Two Dollars.” On Saturday, they both went to the highway. It was one week before Christmas.

Many people stopped to admire their handiwork. By noon, they had sold all their candles and had earned $200. They were so happy and excited that they ran all the way back to the factory to make more. By Christmas Eve, they had made over $500. They were the happiest children in the world.

At home that night, the girl said, “I have a surprise. Wait in the other room till I call for you.”

It seemed like forever, but the boy waited patiently. Finally she called him into the room.

There on the table were three packages, wrapped in Christmas paper. “Merry Christmas!” she said.

Excited, he opened them and found a book, a shiny toy car, and a box of his favorite candy. They were his first presents in three years. He kissed his sister, saying, “But I don’t have a present for you. I’m sorry.”

“You gave me a wonderful present,” she replied. “Your idea saved us.” They made plans to really start up the factory again and go to school and many other things.

They talked a long time before the girl blew out their candle. It was the first one they had made.

He said that he wanted another. Lisa told him another—this time a short one. When that story was finished, his mood began to change. He lost his self-doubt—he was no longer a cowardly little kid.

He soon fell asleep. Everything was quiet, except for the sound of soft breathing. In the darkness, their problems seemed easier.

She could see now what they had to do. They must hide their supplies—in the walls, in the furniture, under the floor, in the furnace, and in places that would protect them from any invader.

Next, she had to figure out a means of defense, and she knew it wouldn’t be easy. Perhaps booby traps in the yard would work. Even better, they could string a fine thread around the house that would trigger an alarm and start an avalanche of rocks falling from the roof. That’s it! she thought. Above the front and rear doors . . . and then some new weapons . . . the gun wouldn’t be enough.

Once their defenses were in place, she could make more trips to the farm. But she had a feeling that the farm’s supply wouldn’t be nearly enough. Soon the other children would think of the farm, and then what would she do? Where would she go for food?

She thought and thought, and her thoughts turned to dreams about a fantastic place with rows and rows of her favorite foods, stacked against the walls and as high as the ceiling.

Sometime in the night, she awoke. She was thinking of the words warehouse . . . warehouse . . . a place where things are stored. How had that come to her? She lit the candle, climbed out of bed, and began thumbing through the telephone book. Finally she found what she wanted: Groceries—Wholesale.

Here it is, a Jewel Grocery Warehouse on North Avenue. Close enough, she thought. And I’ll bet no one else has even thought of it! Her mind wandered through the fabulous place for a long time, conjuring scenes of the endless supply of food she might find. She had to go there soon.

But she couldn’t leave Todd alone again, at least not until a better defense plan had been arranged. She would call a meeting of the kids on Grand Avenue to form some kind of militia. By cooperating, they could protect one another from the gangs. If they planned together, they could even figure out a way to survive after the new supplies were gone.

Her thoughts went on and on until they became dreams again. Her parents wouldn’t have believed it. They had known that Lisa was smart, but would they have believed that she could survive so cleverly? That she could drive a car or provide for a family?

Everything had changed, and Lisa wasn’t really 10 years old anymore. She may have earned good marks in math and English, but now she was struggling to pass a frightening course in survival. The old life had disappeared, and had left many clues. Somehow, she would survive, and succeed.