The screened porch wrapped around the entirety of the camp. On the front, a wide staircase descended into the muddy waters below. Clayton estimated the depth to be about two feet at the last step. He killed the motor and drifted towards the camp. Moses, who had been napping, awoke and bounded to the bow of the boat.
Clayton guided the vessel alongside the stairs with expert skill. The boat gently came to a stop as he looped the stern rope around one of the rail posts. He crawled to the bow and did the same, before climbing over the rails and onto solid footing.
Moses whined as he struggled to squeeze between two posts. Clayton laughed at his friend’s expense and patted him on the side of his ever growing belly. With Moses finally free, they turned and started up the stairs.
The smell of fresh cornbread wafted to Moses’ nose first. He suddenly pushed off with his back paws and bounded to the top. Clayton laughed as he caught a whiff.
“Son, if you eat any more I’ll have to leave you here next time.”
Moses turned and whined, before spinning back around and nudging the screened door with his wet nose.
As Claire pushed the door open, the aroma from within was almost too much for Moses. He burst into the camp and paced impatiently in front of the wood-burning stove. Clayton greeted her with a weak smile and a kiss on the cheek. By the look on her face, she shared his worry.
“No sign of them yet?”
“No ma’am.”
“They’ll turn up soon enough. Come on in; I have fresh cornbread and catfish.”
“Mmm, you sure know how to end a bad day on a good note.” He dropped a filet in Moses’ open mouth and it disappeared with one gulp.
Clayton grabbed three filets and two wedges cornbread, before sitting at the table across from Claire. Moses had already devoured another filet and far too much cornbread. Content, he plopped down in front of the door. Clayton smiled; Moses knew his post. Claire was reading her Bible by the blue hue of an LED lamp. She cleared her throat, looked up and said, “Listen to this:
‘But when they said, ‘Give us a king to lead us,’ this displeased Samuel; so he prayed to the Lord . And the Lord told him: ‘Listen to all that the people are saying to you; it is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me as their king. As they have done from the day I brought them up out of Egypt until this day, forsaking me and serving other gods, so they are doing to you. Now listen to them; but warn them solemnly and let them know what the king who will reign over them will claim as his rights.’
Samuel told all the words of the Lord to the people who were asking him for a king. He said, ‘This is what the king who will reign over you will claim as his rights: He will take your sons and make them serve with his chariots and horses, and they will run in front of his chariots. Some he will assign to be commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and others to plow his ground and reap his harvest, and still others to make weapons of war and equipment for his chariots. He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive groves and give them to his attendants. He will take a tenth of your grain and of your vintage and give it to his officials and attendants. Your male and female servants and the best of your cattle and donkeys he will take for his own use. He will take a tenth of your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves. When that day comes, you will cry out for relief from the king you have chosen, but the Lord will not answer you in that day. ‘But the people refused to listen to Samuel. ‘No!’ they said. ‘We want a king over us. Then we will be like all the other nations, with a king to lead us and to go out before us and fight our battles.’
When Samuel heard all that the people said, he repeated it before the Lord . The Lord answered, ‘Listen to them and give them a king.’”
Clayton finished the last of his cornbread and sat in silence for a few minutes, considering the verses.
Claire watched him intensely. Finally, she broke the silence, “Do you think we asked for this?”
“I know I didn’t.”
“That’s not what I meant, you know that. We the people; society. We.”
He rubbed his scraggly beard and thought for a while before finally answering. The playful demeanor from earlier was gone, “I’m not sure. If we didn’t ask for it, we sure beat around the bush with Him. If you believe in the Lord, you don’t go around acting like we have for the last hundred years or so without knowing you’re pissing Him off. If you don’t believe in Him, you still don’t do it without knowing you’re screwing up the balance of ought and ought not. So in that respect, I guess it was bound to happen. We just lucked up and got to live through it.”
“Maybe we’re supposed to live through it. You and I. The family.”
“Maybe so, babe. I’ve always heard it said that you are where you are, and when you are for a reason, even if it is a bit part. Hey, did I tell you that dinner was perfect?”
“No, I don’t believe you did.”
“Well it was. I love you.”
Ch apter 3
Jake
West Mississippi
Geram took his time with his coffee, while he searched for the proper way to start. He finally let out a deep sigh and began.
“Tell me what you know about Texas and the border.”
“Texas,” Jake thought for several moments, before continuing, “All we really get is what they want us to, since most of the internet’s been shut down. There’re some pretty wild rumors floating around, but you can’t verify anything.
The news says the border is hot, but the local state guards are supporting the military and Border Patrol in hopes of containing it. The ranchers are in big trouble, but everywhere else is basically the same as here: the cities are full of rioters, the suburbs are getting dangerous and it’s starting to spill into rural areas. Martial law and curfews abound.”
Geram reared back in his chair and balanced on its back two back legs. He closed his eyes and said, “It’s much worse bro, I’ve seen it myself. The border isn’t hot, it’s on fire. We’ve lost ground a hundred miles deep in most places. San Antonio and Corpus Christi are on the front lines of the war, fighting in the streets for their southern suburbs. Fort Bliss is an island, all but cut off from new supplies. Tucson is behind enemy lines and Phoenix is split in half. People are fleeing north like refugees to Houston, Dallas and Albuquerque.
Many who’ve seen the worst aren’t even stopping there. They’re leaving the Southwest altogether. The folks down there are convinced the Feds are willing to cede their states, like some sort of pacification. Besides, they say, we can’t afford or aren’t willing to push back hard enough for the cartels to fear us.”