This section is from Ivan's perspective.
I watched Derrick with a smile as he worked, sweat dripping down his brow as he worked on the shower. This dude was obsessed with water. It was an odd quirk but one I can appreciate. The makeshift bathhouse would definitely be an improvement over our current situation. No more open-air showers for us.
Not even mentioning bathing in the lake.
"Alright, Ivan," Derrick called out, breaking my daydreaming of my banya. "Hand me that wrench, will ya?"
I glanced over at the pile of tools and materials we'd hauled from my late Uncle Boris' warehouse. Malcolm stood nearby, his arms folded across his chest, a tiered grin on his face. With a tiered sigh, I picked up the wrench and handed it to Derrick.
"Thanks," he said, tightening a bolt on the frame. "This is gonna be great when it's finished."
"Can't argue with you there," I muttered, wiping sweat from my forehead.
We prepared the space for the four-room bathhouse, complete with a service area on top for the heated water tank. Derrick found shower heads and piping, Teflon tape, and a manual drill. He used his oversized muscles to make holes faster than power tools.
So far, Derrick has been using Malcom and me as glorified gofers and clamps. And Derrick wasn't the happiest with our performance, which felt like a strange inversion of normality.
My muscles ached from hauling lumber, but we were making progress on the bathhouse. Tsu was across the yard, working with Maria and the others to start the community garden.
"Hey, Ivan!" I jumped, fumbling but catching the beam I was holding before realizing it was Hank called out as he approached, his sheriff's star glinting in the sunlight. He waved a meaty hand, trying to catch my attention. I could tell by the furrow in his brow that something was up.
"Give me a sec," I hollered back, setting down the piece of wood I'd been holding. Under my breath, I muttered, "Thank the heavens." grateful for a break. I glanced over at Tsu, signaling for her to join us, and then gestured for Hank to meet me on the porch.
"Alright, what's going on?" I asked once we were all seated. I tried crossing my arms, but they were too aching, so I laid them on the table. I felt my heart pounding in my chest. Tsu moved closer and rubbed my aching hands without me asking for help. I wondered what couldn't wait for the city council meeting scheduled for the next day.
"We got trouble brewin'," Hank said, his voice gruff from too many cigars and whiskey. "People are complainin' 'bout shortages. Food, water, you name it. And it ain't just that – kids are actin' out, fightin' each other. Families are arguin'. We need to figure out a fix and fast."
I sighed, nodding. We'd been lucky so far in our little town, but it was only a matter of time before the cracks in society started to show. The big city just got to the bottom faster.
Tsu's brow furrowed as she pondered the situation. "What do you mean?" she asked a hint of urgency in her voice.
"First, social bonds only go so far as to keep people in line," I explained, running a free hand through my hair. "Second, when structures of power break – I don't mean electricity – I mean government, gangs, and the like. At least that's been the consistent historical response to societies." Tsu and Hank exchanged glances, both nodding slowly, their expressions a mix of understanding and concern.
"Ah," they murmured in unison, the sound of comprehension settling over them. I forced a smile and said, "Hang on, let me call Malcolm."
I walked over to where Derrick was relentlessly hammering nails into the frame he was working on, with Malcom hanging on for dear life. I was starting to worry about how quickly he'd burn through my lumber supply if I didn't stop him soon. "Malcom, can we talk by the house for a minute?"
Derrick stopped mid-swing, his entire body turning towards me with laser-like focus. "Mr. Allen, do you want me to go with you?" His eyes bore into me, almost daring me to say no.
Malcom glanced at me questioningly. "Does he need to be there?"
The tension radiating from Derrick set my heart pounding, but I waved a dismissive hand, trying to appear nonchalant. "No, no, it's fine. Hank is the Sheriff who just wants to talk about some of the problems, and Malcolm is smart." I prayed, and my voice sounded steady enough to reassure Derrick.
Derrick nodded and with his bad arm held the wood Malcom was holding seconds before, his muscles flexing as he started to swing the hammer. "I'll keep working here. Holler if you want or need anything, Mr. Allen." The determined set of his jaw and the fierce glint in his eyes made it clear that he wouldn't hesitate to come running. Lord help anyone who hurt a hair on Malcom's head.
As Malcolm and I walked back towards the porch, I leaned in and asked in a whisper, "How did you train him to be so protective and loyal?"
Malcom's lips curled into a wry smile. "I showed him loyalty and protected him first."
Reaching the porch, Malcolm extended his hand to Hank. "Malcolm Allen at your service."
Hank shifted awkwardly, tripped as he stood, and shoved his hand out to meet Malcom's firm grasp. "Sheriff Henry."
"Here's what we've got so far," I said, catching Malcolm up on the conversation with Hank. Malcom's brows knit together, and I could tell he was taking it all in, the gears turning at top RPMs.
"That's what we saw on the first day of the power outage. It sucks that it's starting here." He sighed, shuddering from memories I only guessed at. "I think we need to focus on three separate solutions: social ties, purpose, and resources."
Hank looked as confused as ever. Christ, this man was supposed to be keeping our town safe, and he couldn't even follow a simple conversation?
Heavens help us.
"Social ties," Malcom continued, bailing the Sheriff out of the awkward moment, " hold people together. It's harder to steal from a person you know as a person rather than a resource. We need to strengthen those bonds to prevent chaos from erupting. Purpose will give everyone something to strive for, a reason to keep pushing forward. And resources... well, without food, water, and shelter, we won't survive long enough to worry about the other two."
"I still don't get it," Hank muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Pointing to us in a circular motion, "How do we fix this?" he started pointing across the lake at the town.
"Alright," Malcom said, a patient smile spreading across his face. "Resource and purpose can be fixed at least partially together. If we organize jobs and work towards local production of food, water, services, resources, and whatnot, and exchange that food, water, and services locally as well, we can have a macroeconomy on a micro level."
He paused, looking at Tsu, Hank, and me, his hands clasped together in front of him. Tsu's raised a brow in that cute way as she considered his words, while Hank still seemed to barley be keeping up with the conversation. He must have been living off liquor lately. I nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility settle onto my shoulders, if this was the caliber of my partners in government.
I hated responsibility...
"Okay," I agreed. "That's a start."
"However," Malcolm continued, "The social ties are going to be harder since. First, we have people who can't work, and second, we need to create social events that foster all of us to come together for various goals." He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "That's not something I'm good at."
"I suppose that'll fall on us then," Tsu said softly.
"Sure, but we're going to need help," I replied, my mind racing with potential ideas. "Uncle Borris was good at those things. I'm not very good. And we can't do this alone."
"Of course not," Tsu agreed, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "But we'll figure it out. We always do."
Hank scratched his graying stubble, his eyes darting between Tsu and me like a nervous squirrel on crack. "Ok," he said finally, "Let's think up some solutions and make plans for tomorrow. I'll talk to the other town council members and ask them to do the same."
I nodded and added, "We do have the store, so we can sell from there, and we know most of the farmers around. If we go to all the farmers and organize workers for them in exchange for cash, then get that cash spent at the stores and pay the farmers for the produce that they sell us, we can start the cycle going. And I'll say I need to do something that will hurt my capitalistic soul: we are going to need to do a little central planning and socialism until the government comes around and fixes everything."
"Really?" Tsu raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eye. "Mr. Capitalist himself is suggesting socialism?"
"Desperate times call for desperate measures," I muttered, feeling the bad taste in my mouth. But we had to survive, and that meant swallowing my pride and doing what was necessary.
"Besides," Malcolm chimed in, flashing me a supportive grin. "It's not like you're suggesting full-blown communism or anything. Just a temporary measure to keep things from falling apart on a small scale of this one town."
"Right." I took a deep breath, swallowing hard. "We'll start by talking to the farmers and organizing work for people. We can set up a system where they trade labor for goods, at least until we can get some money circulating again."
"I'm not sure I like it, but it sounds like a plan. And that's more than I had before coming here. I'm glad I came to talk to you first." Hank nodded, his face showing glimmers of understanding. "I'll talk to the council members, and we can meet tomorrow to hammer out the details." He looked like he was about to get up.
Malcom sighed and added, "We had better get this right on the first try. Groups of angry, hungry people aren't kind to leaders who mess up this process. Those leaders don't live long, happy lives."
Hank's shoulder slumped. "What do you mean? Where are you getting this from?"
"History, Hank," I stated flatly. People who try to take control during times like these often end up on the wrong side of a mob. I, for one, like my head with seven holes, and my head on my neck is far more comfortable than pike in the town square."
"Damn," he muttered, running a hand through his hair and rubbing his neck with his other. "Guess we better tread carefully then."
"Fine line to walk," Malcom chimed in, redirecting the conversation.
"Exactly," I agreed, clenching my fists to keep my nerves at bay. "And I really need to get you to read some history one of these days, Hank."
"Right," Hank sighed, ignoring my jab. "Well, I got to go. Thanks for talking to me."
"Take care, Hank," Tsu said as we rose and followed him off the porch.
As we watched Hank head down the road back to town, Malcom, Tsu, and I turned toward where Derrick was working on the shower structure. His focus was intense, the muscles in his arms flexing as he held a 2x4 with one hand and hammered with the other.
"Done with the frame, I'm going to use canvas to make walls on all sides and separating the baths and showers," Derrick announced, not missing a beat. "Anyone want to help me get this done today?"
"Sure thing, Derrick," Malcom replied, rolling up his sleeves with a sigh and moving to join him. I looked over at Tsu, her eyes alight with a mix of anticipation and excitement.
I turned to stare at Derrick, slack-jawed. His brute strength and his sheer determination to get the job done was unreal. Tsu and Malcolm moved towards Derrick to help.
"Seriously," I finally managed to say, my voice a mix of awe and disbelief. "How is he real?"
"Good question," Malcom replied, shrugging with a smile in his voice. "Derrick's always been like this, though. When he sets his mind to something, there's no stopping him."
I shook my head and stepped quickly to catch up to Tsu and Malcolm to help finish the shower by the end of today.