The overwhelming reaction made Cooper pause in confusion. Then, it hit him. Catharsis. All the pent up stress and emotion from the last several days is being released. The community has come back together. People are planning for tomorrow again. He knew this was what was eliciting such emotion. He stood watching it all unfold. His body ached to join in and get lost in the emotion and enthusiasm, but he knew the possible bloodshed, terror, and horror that awaited them; that awaited anyone who had to pick up weapons to defend themselves. Here I go again, worrying about tomorrow, he mused to himself. He recalled his father’s words,
“Men like us lose a bit of today, because we are always thinking of the needs of tomorrow.” His father had accepted this trait, even embraced it. Cooper had never been able to do so. So, he stood apart, watching wistfully at the joy erupting around him, which he could not lose himself in.
As if on cue, Dranko was at his side with a clipboard. He thrust it into Cooper’s hand, and he looked down at it.
It was a sign-up sheet for the checkpoints and patrols, broken down by shift. Thanks dad, the needs of tomorrow indeed.
Dranko whispered into his ear, “No time like the present to get volunteers.”
Just like that Cooper was back at work.
The crowd outside his home lingered. Pairs and small groups stayed put and continued in conversations. Periodically, the groups would dissolve and then reassemble with others, like at a party where everyone is having such a good time they look for excuses, and new people to talk to, in order to stay. They would first talk of matters relevant to the crisis of the plague, but then would move on to mundane matters: the weather, hobbies, or sports. Their faces started off grave and serious, but then would morph into smiles, laughter, and loud voices of exclamation. Cooper watched, wondering at the display. Slowly, it dawned on him. Having overcome their fear of disease and embracing the welcome emotion of community, everyone was loath to leave and return to their isolated homes. Their homes were now a place where most faced the presence of a loved one ill and dying or a fresh memory of one who had died. Death awaited them at home, in one way or another. Here, they could live. This meeting had transformed from a necessary evil, into a welcome escape from the plague and the isolation it had wrought.
Cooper breathed in a deep sigh of satisfaction. They had not had a problem assembling a schedule for the checkpoints and patrols. In addition, they had three burial teams sign up and they would begin the first of their grisly work in the morning. This felt right. He had always been a person of action and now that a plan was in motion, he could relax a little. The sun was still shining and the chill had disappeared from the air. Fluffy white clouds moved lazily across the sky, driving east to points unknown. As they had done throughout, the birds flittered on the wind, oblivious to the troubles of man below.
Dranko grunted, bringing Cooper’s attention back down to earth. Cooper turned to face him and noticed an impish smile on his face. Something must be up, I’ve never seen him smile like that! Cooper, Mark, Calvin, Freddie, and Jake gathered around him. Dranko had carefully whispered to each of them and asked them to remain behind after the meeting.
“If you would please, follow me, gentlemen,” Dranko intoned, mimicking an eighteenth century butler.
The other men exchanged humored looks and fell in line behind Dranko as he walked toward his home. Jake gripped his father’s hand with his left and with his right motioned the universal sign for “he’s crazy” toward Dranko, smiling broadly the entire time. Cooper couldn’t repress a laugh in return.
Dranko led them through his back door into his kitchen and stopped there to face the group. His face had grown serious and the excitement had faded. OK, this is the Dranko I know, serious as a heart attack.
“I have something to show you. Some tools that can help us in our current predicament. But, before I can show any of them to you, I need your word you won’t tell another soul what it is that I reveal to you.”
“C’mon Dranko, what’s with the drama?” Mark asked first.
Dranko looked straight back at him, “Mark, not drama. Security. I need your word.”
“Well, how can I promise something when I do not even know what you are going to reveal? I’m the President of the Association; I couldn’t keep it quiet if you had 500 doses of something that would cure this illness, for example. Give us a hint at least,” Dranko shifted his gaze to Calvin as he spoke.
Dranko shook his head in frustration, “Calvin, my request for silence will enhance the welfare of this neighborhood, I assure you of that. Like I said, I have some tools that will help us through this current crisis, but I can’t show them to you unless I have your word.
Cooper knew that Dranko was talking about guns or weapons of some kind, so he decided to assist his friend, “I’m in. You have my word. I trust you. Jake you’ll keep it silent as well, right?” Jake nodded quickly and seriously. A forced grave look scarcely concealed a lurking smile. You could tell he was immensely pleased to be in the room during this grown-up conversation.
“Alright, with your assurance that my silence benefits our neighborhood, you have my word,” Calvin added.
Mark nodded his head with an ironic corner of his mouth upturned, “Sure. You have my word as well.” Everyone had agreed in quick order.
Dranko clapped his hands, the excitement returning, “OK then, follow me.”
He grabbed a set of keys off of the wall and moved to the door that led to his basement. He unlocked the door, flicked on a light, and led them downstairs. The old stairs creaked in rapid succession as they descended.
At the bottom, a large room off to the right was blocked by a heavy steel door. To the left was a washer, a dryer and assorted detritus of camping gear, cleaning supplies, and tools. Cooper realized now that as long as he had known Dranko, he had never been down in the basement.
“My Lord, what the hell do you have down here, Fort Knox?” Mark asked incredulously as he noticed the steel door had a large lock combination dial and a handle with five spokes coming to open it. In fact, it did look like a smaller version of a bank vault door.
Dranko didn’t miss a beat as he fiddled with the dial, “Not Fort Knox; it’s what I call Depot Prudence. You’ll see why I have this security in a moment.”
Calvin looked at Cooper with an upturned eyebrow and Cooper could only shrug his shoulders, “I know no more than you. Dranko’s never shown me down here.”
Dranko stepped back from the dial, turned the spoked handle, and opened the heavy door, “Please step in.”
They ambled into the darkened room slowly. Dranko followed them in and then turned on a few light switches. Their eyes recoiled from the sudden brightness of the multiple banks of fluorescent lighting overhead. Apparently, Mark’s vision recovered quickest.
“Wow, Dranko what the hell have you got here?
Now, Cooper could see it too. He involuntarily let out a low whistle.
Jake shouted excitedly, “There must be a hundred in here!”
Dranko laughed out loud, “No, no, only a few dozen.”
Calvin stood gaping, slack-jawed, “Are those legal?” He pointed at a couple military-style rifles that were displayed, mounted on a peg board; the way most men organized their hammers or screwdrivers.
“Of course,” Dranko responded, with a sly wink that only Cooper noticed.
They were standing a few feet inside the door. Immediately in front of them, opposite the entrance was a rack that held over a dozen shotguns and hunting rifles, evenly split between them. The hunting rifles seemed nothing out of the ordinary, a mixture of synthetic and wooden stocks, most with scopes.