Carrington Event - Book 2 - Chapter 17

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This section is from Ivan's perspective.

I stood in the garage rubbing my butt, staring at the pain that I didn't want to touch. For a moment, I thought about walking everywhere. But that would take even longer and still be painful.

I sighed and stretched, preparing to get back on the bike.

I swung my leg over the seat, taking a deep breath as I gripped the handlebars, forcing myself to not give up. I hadn't been too fond of this thing since biking home from the big city; it'd given me more than my fair share of sore muscles and bruises. I walked funny for days after. But now, with the blessing of the Town Council, I had a mission that required speed and efficiency, and the bike was perfect for that.

"Alright, let's do this," I muttered under my breath, pushing off and starting a steady pace toward the nearby farms. The goal was to get a feel for what farmers needed and could offer. It would have been so much easier with phones. But legs and wheels it was.

The first farm belonged to an old friend, Ted. His eyes squinted against the sunlight as I road up to him.

"Hey, Ivan. What brings you out this way?" he asked, spitting chew on the ground and giving me a cautious smile. As he leaned against his fence, he got a tin of dip. He offered me some, but I didn't have any desire to pick up a nicotine vice on top of my existing ones.

"Ted, I need your help. We've got to make a list of positions and duties for the farmers around town," I said, getting straight to the point. He didn't like it, and I didn't have time for small talk. I gave him the elevator pitch of Malcolm's idea.

"Interesting idea. There are tons of things that aren't getting done around here cause it's only 7 pairs of hands doing all the work. The trucks, CAT and ATV don't work. I even had to relearn and reteach how to use the horse and buggy that we kept for decorations," Ted replied, his eyes narrowing as he considered it. "Yeah, I think I can get behind that. Count me in."

"Great. I'm organizing a sit-down at my place tonight to discuss it further. Can you make it?"

"Wouldn't miss it." He spat the dip onto the ground again, then nodded to me. "See you tonight, Ivan."

"Thanks, Ted," I called out as I pedaled away. One down, but there were still many more to go.

As I continued, stopping by each farm and talking to those I knew, I found that most of them were on board with the idea. This was a surprising turn of events, but one I welcomed with open arms.

"Sounds like a good plan, Ivan," said Ellen at her dairy farm, wiping her hands on her apron. "I'll be there tonight. Thanks for sending over some of your people to help keep the girls from getting engorged. Even if it wasn't for selfish reasons, I owe you my support."

"Appreciate it, Ellen." I offered her a smile and continued on my way.

Don't get me wrong, not everyone was as receptive. There were those who eyed me with skepticism and distrust. But that was expected to be the majority not the angry loud minority.

"Positions and duties?" sneered old Mr. Thompson as he spat tobacco juice onto the parched ground. "That's a load of bull if you ask me. Don't need no fancy lists to tell me how to run my farm."

"Other way around, but look, I understand your concerns," I told him, trying to keep my voice steady despite my frustration. "This is for the good of the town. And we need to know what the farmers need, so we can organize people. Just come to the meeting tonight and hear us out."

"Maybe," he grumbled noncommittally, turning away from me to walk to his fields. I gritted my teeth and pedaled onward, doing my best to shake off the negativity. It was trying to teach physics to an ox.

By the time the sun crossed the zenith, I had visited every farm within a two-mile radius of my side of the town. Malcolm suggested that I try to hit the other side as well, so I was peddling off.

Thankfully, that side of the town had larger continuous field farmers, so I had to make fewer stops. Sadly, it meant biking quite many extra miles to loop around the side farmer access road. But it wasn't in vain. All of them agreed to show up.

"Think it's time we invest in some horses," I muttered to myself as I pulled my bike up to the last farm on my list. There were several fenced in paddocks with groups of horses. Jacobs hobby was horse rehabilitation, so he always had extra horses available. Tsu loved going horseback riding on the trails on the forest next to this farm.

A horse and cart would be a game-changer for us, especially now when gas was useless. Farmer Jacobs, I didn't know if that was his first or last name, agreed to come over tonight and also to drop off a cart and horse to start with.

I hope Tsu will be happy. She has always wanted horses but has been satisfied renting them till now. I probably should have asked her first. But she was used to my impulsive stunts.

"Let's hope this works," I whispered to myself, exhaustion settling into my bones as I biked back home.

As the evening began to settle in, I felt a mixture of anticipation and anxiety knotting in my gut. Malcolm had promised to help with the meeting, but I couldn't shake the anxiety that this whole plan could fall apart at any moment.

The sun dipped to the horizon, casting long shadows across the dirt road as a small group of familiar faces gathered in front of my house. I didn't recognize some faces, but most of them where the ones from earlier in the day.

"Evening, folks," I greeted them, trying to push aside my doubts and project confidence. Malcolm nodded in silent support as we gathered around the large table in the chapel.

"Let's get started, shall we?" he said, his voice steady and commanding. "We've got a lot to figure out."

The next hour was a whirlwind of discussion, debate, and compromise as we hashed out the details of our plan. With Malcolm's guidance, we managed to create a list of over a hundred people needed for various positions – from farmhands and drivers to a desperate need for mechanics – along with expected wages and rough costs for the products they'd be handling.

One question that all the farmers agreed was crucial to answer: What are we planting doing?

"First off," he began, his voice steady and strong, "we need crops that can provide nutrients quickly." I could see the farmers nodding along, their faces scrunched in contemplation. "Second priority is staples and stuff that stores easily."

"Like potatoes?" asked one farmer, his calloused hands clasped in front of him.

"Exactly," Malcolm confirmed. "Now, I know you're all experts in your fields – no pun intended – so I trust you'll be able to look through what's available and make a list for the next meeting. In the meantime, Ivan and I will work on organizing the workers side of the equation."

As the farmers murmured their agreement and started discussing amongst themselves. I was grateful there didn't seem to be too many dissenters. This might actually work out.

The farmers left to get home before dark so they could sleep with the roosters. Farmer Jacobs left the horse and cart he brought with a bail of hay.

Tsu was ecstatic to meet the horse. Turned out Jacobs remembered that Tsu liked this horse in particular. The horse liked Tsu as well. Just Tsu. No one else. Especially not me for some reason.

The next day, we had the Town meeting. It was scheduled for noon. And we had a ton of research to do before then in the library. I had to explain to Derrick and Malcolm that the library had information like the Internet.

"Can't believe we're reduced to this," Malcom muttered, kicking at a stray pebble on the sidewalk. "No internet, no phones – it's like we've been thrown back a hundred years."

"Maybe even further than that," Derrick chimed in, his voice tinged with annoyance.

"I'm sure they have the info. That's how humans kept knowledge for centuries."

"Let's just hope they have what we need," Malcolm added.

Derrick "Ha, Ivan, your just comfortable in the ancient world cause you were there when they invented the printer thingy."

I rolled my eyes as I opened the door to the library, letting Malcolm and Derick go in first. "Just because you're an overgrown fetus doesn't mean I went to school with Galileo!"

"Morning, Sofia," Malcom called out as we entered, greeted by the familiar sight of Maria's youngest daughter pushing a cart of book. The girl seemed to have found her happy place.

"Hello, what can I help you find?" she replied, offering a warm smile that could light up even the darkest day.

"Uh, we need some references for crop harvest times," Malcolm said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. I chuckled, imagining him allergic to paper.

"Sure thing!" Sofia beamed, leading us over to an indexed encyclopedia. My jaw dropped when I saw the ancient-looking tome, its leather-bound cover cracked and faded with age.

"You know how to use that thing?" I asked incredulously.

"Granie has taught me," she smirked, flipping through the pages with practiced ease. "Ah, here we go." She pointed to a page filled with tables and charts, her finger tracing the lines of text. "Mr. Allen, you probably want the Home Garden section and the Agriculture section. I'll show you where each of those are."

"Thanks, Sofia," Malcolm said, his eyes scanning the information hungrily.

As Sofia led us through the library, I elbowed Derrick in the arm. "Even a child knows how to use this. That's what real education looks like in a small town."

He rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. My thoughts drifted back to the town hall meeting scheduled for later that day. With so many pressing issues to address – food shortages, crime, lack of power – tensions were bound to run high. I was impressed how focused Derrick and Malcom could be on the task at hand and not be suffocated with anxiety.

Sofia led us to the Home Garden and Agriculture sections, where she pointed out a few books that might be helpful. Malcolm grabbed one on crop rotation, Derrick picked up another on preserving food, and I found one that looked promising for our seed list.

"Thanks, Sofia," I said, feeling more than a little overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information we needed to absorb in such a short time. The weight of responsibility was heavy on my shoulders.

"Good luck; if you want to take those books home, you will need to wait for Grannie to set up the checkout," she replied with a small smile as she headed back to her duties.

We carried the books over to a large table in the corner, and got to work. My mind drifted to the shipment of seeds sitting in the hardware store, a timely stroke of luck. As we flipped through the pages, we began to make notes – which crops would be easiest to grow and harvest quickly, planting times, and storage methods.

Malcom meticulously made notes and cross-referenced them with the list I gave him from the bill of lading and order list of seeds. I was a partial owner of the hardware store. But most of my efforts were focused on orders and deliveries.

Getting tired, I stood to stretch my legs and realized the sun was getting kinda high in the sky.

"Let's head to the town hall," I suggested, suddenly aware of how close we were cutting it to the meeting's start time.

We returned the books to their rightful places and thanked Grannie for Sofia's help before rushing out the door.

As we approached the town hall, I could feel the tension in the air. Or maybe it was just my own anxiety. A crowd had already gathered – people talking animatedly, some shouting, others standing silently, their expressions grim. Pam looked frazzled as she walked up to us.

"We will not fit everyone," she said, frustration evident in her voice. "It looks like most of the town will be here."

"Damn," I muttered under my breath, scanning the overflowing room. "What about the church?"

"Church only seats 400 max," Pam shook her head. "We will have more than that."

Malcolm glanced around, and then his eyes lit up. "What about the park grounds? That seems like the easiest solution."

Pam nodded, her face set with determination. She walked up to a lanky young man lingering by the doorway, giving him instructions to wait there and direct everyone to the park. I admired Pam's ability to stay calm and focused even in the most chaotic of situations. It was a trait I wished I had. She stood in front of everyone and announced the change of venue.

"Let's head over then," Malcolm suggested, already moving toward the park.

"Deep breaths, Ivan," I whispered to myself, trying to still my racing heart.

"Good evening, everyone," Pam called out, her voice carrying across the park. "Thank you for coming. We will start with public voicing. Since we have such a large group today, we will ask you to only speak out if someone hasn't said anything about this problem yet. We also have some announcements at the end."

I calmed down, watching as Pam took control of the situation with grace and authority. She truly was the backbone of our community.

We watched the few hundred people shuffle around a smaller group, detaching and filing to the side of the stage. I forced my brain to not drift to remembering my Uncle donating his time and effort to build up this part of the park and organizing summer concerts with local musicians.

Pam motioned to the group of people standing near the stage, snapping me back to the moment. "Can you please state your issues one by one?" she asked. "After each one, please raise a hand in the crowd so we can get a sense of what bothers how many people."

I shifted my weight from one foot to another, feeling the grace beneath my shoes and trying to ignore the pounding in my chest.

"Alright," a tall man with a deep voice shouted, stepping forward. "When is the power coming back on?"

A sea of hands shot up like rows of crops in a field. Pam scribbled something down on her notepad, her face pinched in concentration.

"Food is getting scarce," a woman with a baby strapped to her hip called out next, her voice cracking slightly. Half of the hands remained raised, their owners' faces a mix of fear and concern.

There was a pause, and the sea of hands drifted down. Pam motioned for the next person to speak.

"Crime is increasing" was the third issue, spoken with an undertone of anger. A few hands went up, but not nearly as many as before.

Finally, the last person stepped forward, her voice trembling. "What are we going to do about work and money?"

Once again, the field of hands raised like a dark cloud rolling over us all. I glanced at Malcolm, his eyes fixed on the crowd, his jaw set in determination.

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