Graham Johns's Blog, page 5

Enjoyed Lockdown? Why not try these Great Tales…

If you’ve not been reading “Lockdown” over the past few weeks (why not?) then feel free to do so by looking back over my posts…and if you have, perhaps I can tempt you with my other stories, “Baabaric“, “Stoned” or “Pickled“? These are comedy, sci-fi, mystery and a bit of horror smashed into one place…they’ve been compared to Monty Python, Carry On and Last of the Summer Wine by different reviewers so please give them a try…

Or how about some non-fiction with my Grandpa’s WWII and Pantomime memoirs (an unusual combination for sure), “Theatre of Life“?

Click on the individual titles above to learn more…available on all good Amazon stores (on paperback or ebook) and at a reasonable price too! Stay Safe Everyone!

 

Lockdown – Day Sixteen

Here comes the end of my short story. It’s been fun to write while New Zealand has been stuck in a lockdown state. Thank you to everyone who has interacted, hopefully I’ve included a few ideas and answered a few questions you’ve asked too…please enjoy the last part…

Please tell your friends and family if you’ve enjoyed reading this, and don’t forget that I have other novels you might enjoy…”Baabaric“, “Stoned” and “Pickled” are just a click away…

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DAY SIXTEEN

John

Sleeping in a car is never pleasant. I get aches in places they shouldn’t be. There is a reason we generally lie down to sleep. I run my hand through my beard which is getting to be rather impressive now, but that too is irritating me at times. Maybe I can find a razor from somewhere when we get settled, although come to think of it, I might need to use a cut-throat variety which I can re-sharpen for myself. The thought of doing my neck with one of those makes me shudder a little.

Sarah rouses just after me, I can hear her stretching back there.

“Good morning,” I say.

“Hi,” she replies, sounding sleepy.

There is a tap on the window by the lady in the hazmat suit, I guess nobody told her we weren’t infectious. She points down to the ground and I lean over to see what she is indicating. There are hot drinks steaming down below, it looks like coffee. I open the door and bring them into the car. Sarah turns her nose up but accepts it as better than nothing. They have also brought us some bread, freshly made by the smell. For the first time, the car smells fantastic! Bread and coffee!

“Do you think we’ll see Rebecca again?” Sarah asks me from behind. “I like her.”

I’m really not sure what will happen but I meet her eyes in the mirror, “I hope so.”

“I read your book,” she tells me, “well, most of it anyway.”

“What did you think?” I ask.

She pauses for a bit, clearly thinking how best to frame her reply, “Well…it was OK. But I can tell you didn’t really live in the woods in a real kind of way. Perhaps you can edit it when we get wherever we’re going?”

I know she’s right. I grin at her, “Now I know for sure that you’re honest. Thank you. One problem with writing is the sycophants who tell you what they think you need to hear rather than what you actually need. Maybe we can write it together?”

“Sure,” she says, “it’ll be fun.”

We finish our breakfast and I start the engine, “Ready to find somewhere to let the horses run round? And hopefully somewhere contained for the chickens to forage so we don’t have to chase them ever again?”

“Are you sure?” she asks with a laugh. “Mister Aggressive would probably love to have round two with you.”

At no point has Sarah ever suggested leaving my company. I’m amazed by this thought and feel incredibly lucky to have found this friend. We have no duty to each other. We have only circumstance that is binding us together but I feel that I want to help her and be with her, not out of any form of misplaced duty or crazed romantic ideology but because life seems like it will be more rewarding and worth living because of her. She can teach me so much and maybe one day I can teach her something too, but either way it will be a lot of fun to learn together, at least I hope so. There will certainly also be hardship, but we now know there are some people around here so maybe things aren’t quite as bad as we first thought.

Sarah

I can tell that John is thinking about what comes next and probably wondering about us. Me too. It’s not like we’re a couple, yuck! I just know that we’ve come a long way since we first met when I hit him over the head and taped him to a chair.

It’s funny how quickly you start to depend on someone and how they depend on you. I think we’re a team. We’ve never talked about going our separate ways, maybe we will one day because there is so much space out there now. Space is fine only when you know you can come out of it occasionally, I think.

Even though he is kind-of-useless, I still think he has my back and has a good heart. There’s a lot to be said for that.

I lost everyone, maybe now I’ve found someone. And Rebecca and Cliff are out there too.

The drive east is not a long one. We decide to come off the main road just before we get to Tauranga and follow the Wairoa River a short distance inland. There are lots of lifestyle blocks out here. We can see cows and sheep, a readymade menagerie just waiting to be milked or sheared!

One house in particular stands out. It is a large bungalow, painted white, perched quite high up on some rolling hills with a snaking driveway; it must have a spectacular view from up there. There are several outbuildings that might be good for the horses and even Mister Aggressive and his harem.

“Wow!” I say. “Let’s try up there!”

John looks at his fuel gauge, “Nice, we’ve might have just enough to get back to Rebecca if we want to visit, or use it for some jobs around the place.”

He then looks at me with a big smile.

“Let’s go have a look, it looks great.”

“It looks perfect, like I dreamed of I think,” I reply.

He squeezes my shoulder and smiles. We take the turning. Just maybe this could be a nice place to be. I allow myself a smile. Maybe life could be worth living again. Maybe.

NOT THE END, BUT A NEW BEGINNING

Lockdown – Day Fifteen (continued again)

Hi Everyone! We are nearing the end of John and Sarah’s story. Coincidentally, we are also nearing the end of New Zealand’s Level 4 Lockdown. Tomorrow will be the final part of their story. I hope you’re continuing to enjoy. I’ve got some ideas about including this in a volume of short stories centred around a similar theme, what do you think?

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DAY FIFTEEN (continued again)

John

Viney doesn’t seem too sure of what happens next. I’m really tempted to drive on and damn him, but it isn’t worth the risk. I turn off the engine while we wait for him to do whatever he is doing. He appears to be talking to someone on a radio. Just the existence of such a communication implies that maybe civilisation is clinging on out here in the back of beyond.

It feels like forever before he comes back.

“Can you prove you’re a doctor?” he asks Rebecca.

I can’t quite believe she carries it with her, let alone on a lanyard around her neck, but Rebecca pulls out a hospital ID and shows him. He indicates that she should throw it to him, catching it with ease. He peruses it and takes it so he can radio it in. We can’t help but sit and watch him. When he comes back, he tosses Rebecca her ID back and says, “Move ahead, when you reach Paeroa you’ll be processed. Welcome back to civilisation, such as it is.”

I ignite the engine once again and we drive on. None of us can quite believe what has just happened. Civilisation? Really? What does that mean? A military state? We can’t decide if this is good or bad but the shock of it dominates everything.

Sarah

I feel more sad for Cliff and the lady in the café now that there is the promise of an actual community not far from them. There might be people like me, my age. Maybe schools? Maybe more than just surviving individually.

As we enter Paeroa, we have a brief opportunity to admire the large bottle of L&P which stands proudly along the main road. I can’t stand the stuff, I think it tastes like detergent. Someone, again armed, pulls us over and tells us to stop. She is wearing a full yellow hazmat suit and seems to be expecting us.

“Come with me,” she says, taking us into a large white tent. I think she is a well-built lady under her suit, from her visible features she may be of Maori descent.

She hands us over to someone else in a suit who starts to test us in every way they can think of, taking samples of blood, spit, temperature and more. They ask us loads of questions about our life history that feels far more invasive than anything Facebook used to hold. We are told to return to our vehicle while results are processed.

I feed the chickens and the horses while we wait. I wish they could have a walk around for a bit but I think that might be frowned upon. I’m not sure how we’d get them back in again either.

Sitting in the car seems a good time to read some of the books we took from the library. I think John seems to need this the most so I give him something about fishing. I find his manuscript while I’m looking in the bags and decide to read that. I’m sat behind him so he doesn’t notice. Part of me is surprised he brought it with him but then perhaps this is his small way of clinging to what he knows.

Hours pass. The light is beginning to fade. I’ve been glued to John’s book so I haven’t really noticed. I wish I had a red pen because there are so many spelling errors in here that it’s embarrassing. When I tell him I’ve read it I imagine he will ask if it is any good so I had best think of a constructive answer.

I’m starting to doze when there is a rap on the passenger window.

John

Rebecca winds her window down, “Yes?”

“We need you to come with us,” a stern male voice replies. It sounds English in origin, not unusual in New Zealand but still a little surprising. Some English accents have a way of sounding authoritative even when they’re not.

“What about us?” I ask.

“You can continue on.”

“Where are you wanting to take me?” Rebecca rightly enquires.

The figure, again clad in yellow, switches on a torch and illuminates himself, looking ghostly.

“Two things. First, you’re a doctor and we need doctors, in fact you would be one of only two left alive that we know of. Second, you’re carrying the virus.”

“What?” I ask before Rebecca can get a word in. We all share a look of horror.

He raises his arms in a placating gesture, “It appears dormant and you haven’t passed it to your friends but we need to use you and your skills to help us search for a cure just in case this thing kick-starts again. We’ll be taking you to a nearby central facility where we can run research on you and with you. Please come with us.”

In the shadows, I can see Rebecca is torn between telling them to go to hell and in going along with it. This might be a new purpose for her after the death of her parents. It could be just what she needs. Or she might make a run for it. I have no idea what to expect.

She takes a deep breath and pauses in silence for a little while as she processes this news. Finally, she says to us, “Wow. I wasn’t expecting any of that. I think I have to go.”

I’m not going to lie, this makes me sad. I can see Sarah looking more so in the mirror. She is visibly upset.

“Don’t go,” she murmurs.

Rebecca reaches gets outside and opens Sarah’s door, Sarah gets out and they embrace, “Sorry kiddo, but you’ll be OK. John needs you, he’s incompetent at best. Even worse that he doesn’t seem to know it yet.”

She laughs a little and Sarah smiles.

“I’m sure I’ll see you again, just save enough petrol to come back and visit. Bye, John.”

While we don’t have a love for each other, we do have respect, so the parting is easier for men than Sarah. She walks away in much the same way as she came, with the element of surprise. She takes her gear with her and is gone.

I join Sarah in the backseat for a bit, knowing that we’ll be sleeping in here soon. I spot that she has been reading my book. I can’t wait to hear her appraisal.

Lockdown – Day Fifteen (continued)

Day fifteen will be the longest day yet…in three parts…here comes part two…

If you’ve only just stumbled upon this tale, all parts are free for you to on my blog by clicking here

Stay Safe everyone!

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DAY FIFTEEN (continued)

Sarah

I can’t believe it. A café! Serving food!

My mum was a cleaner so she didn’t earn a lot of money when she was alive. I didn’t get to go out to such places very often unless it was a treat. The menu is understandably short and has no prices on it. They seem to have mainly egg options. I guess they have hens here. Drinks seem limited to varieties of tea.

“How much?” John asks our host, pointing at the omelette.

“What can you pay?” she asks.

John instinctively reaches for his wallet. He clearly still hasn’t quite got his head around this new world. The lady puts her hand on his, shakes her head and pushes it away, “Not want money. Useless.”

“John,” Rebecca says, “we need to give her something she wants.”

“What do you need?” Rebecca asks her.

“Need supplies. Food, drink, medical,” she replies concisely.

It all seems so futile. I guess this lady keeps doing what she has always done because she doesn’t know what else to do or where else to go.

“What kind of medical supplies?” Rebecca asks.

“Inhalers for me,” she says with a hopeful look in her eyes.

Rebecca takes the car key from John and goes outside, coming back in after a short time. She places three inhalers on the table.

“Will this get us three omelettes and three teas?” she asks.

The lady wrings her apron in her hands for a moment, thinking, and then says, “Four?”

Rebecca smiles and places a fourth canister with the others.

“Syeh syeh,” I think she says, with a polite bowing of the head, gathering them up and going to the kitchen.

“I might give her the last one as a parting gift,” Rebecca advises, “like a tip if the food is decent.”

“Why did you bring those?” John asks.

“Why not? I’m a doctor, I never know what I might be needed for.”

We can’t argue with that.

When the food arrives it is lovely. Not in the context of a few months ago but in the context of now. She has put tomato and cheese in it. Rebecca does give her the tip and she hugs her and thanks her as if Rebecca had just given her the winning Lotto numbers. We can’t imagine what the future holds for this lady but our time here is done and we move on.

John

That was pretty surreal. The car is telling me we still have over a hundred kilometres left in the tank so fingers crossed we don’t have to walk.

“We need to start looking for somewhere to stop, maybe not as a forever home but it must be preferable to walking later,” I say to them both.

“We might need to go away from the main road to find somewhere,” Rebecca suggests. “Otherwise, we could be an open invitation for anyone else like us who is passing by. I don’t think I want that.”

Neither do I. She’s right on the money.

We are approaching the southern end of the Coromandel Peninsula now, its peaks nosing upwards to the north, our left. This used to be a gold mining area at one time in the past, I wonder what those people would make of things now, and the context of their own endeavours of the past. I guess people now might still value gold once they get a regular supply of food, water and shelter but I could be wrong.

Spending so much time in Auckland, much like any city, I sometimes forget how spectacular the scenery a short distance away can be. Cities can be so dull and lifeless, even when they were populated. Maybe nature will reclaim them now.

We round a corner and I am forced to apply the brakes because there is an undoubted roadblock. Someone has made a form of chicane from concrete blocks. A man is standing in the road, he is carrying a rifle and has a handgun on his hip. He waves for us to stop. I don’t have much choice.

“Be calm,” I say, more to myself than anyone else.

Sarah

The man is saying that John should wind his window down. He is big, clean shaven, short black hair, a deep tan and appears to be dressed for some form of military action, if TV shows are anything to go by. He has a black vest on, over his grey fatigues. He is also wearing a mask and gloves. A large scar runs down one of his cheeks, along his jawline. He never comes closer than a few metres away from the car.

“Hey,” he says, “where are you going?”

“Bay of Plenty,” John replies, “is that OK?”

“Have you got a permit?”

“A permit for what?”

“Going this way. Are you going to family?”

I can see that John is getting a bit annoyed and is fidgeting. He starts picking his thumb when he gets a bit on edge.

“Who are you to ask?” John enquires, quite reasonably I think.

“NZDF. We’re posted here to screen everyone coming down this road. My name’s Viney,” he smiles which puts us a little at ease.

“Well, officer, we’re looking for a place to live. We’re travelling from Auckland.”

“JAFAs eh?” he laughs. JAFA is an acronym that people outside Auckland like to use to describe the people inside. Aucklanders don’t much care. It’s probably born of jealousy.

John laughs, “Something like that. We wanted to leave the city and find somewhere to settle.”

“This road is closed. Unless you can prove you’re virus-free?”

Rebecca butts in, “How are we supposed to do that? Go and see a doctor who doesn’t exist anymore?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “Honestly, I don’t care. My job is to turn traffic around.”

“I’m a doctor,” Rebecca says with a sigh, “what test would you have me perform? The last I saw, nobody knew they had the virus until it was too late.”

This seems to fox him a little.

“Perhaps you should try asking your superior?” Rebecca suggests.

I was longing to get to somewhere new, now it doesn’t seem so likely.

Lockdown – Day Fifteen

Hi folks. Thanks for keeping with me so far. Day fifteen already!

If you are enjoying this, why not try one of my novels…they are quite different in nature as they are comedic but “Baabaric“, “Stoned” and “Pickled” are all waiting for you…click on the individual titles to learn more…

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DAY FIFTEEN

John

We hoped Cliff would come with us. He hasn’t chosen to do so.

“I’m happy enough here with my own company. I’m doing OK. Travelling at my age seems pointless. You guys will do fine without a decrepit old man to order you about,” he says with a look of firm resolve that tells us there is no point trying to persuade him otherwise.

Sarah is especially disappointed, Rebecca seems indifferent from the look of her, but she is still understandably preoccupied by her parents. As for me, I’m not going to lie, it would’ve been nice to take Cliff along with us. He is clearly far more used to this kind of life than I am, he could’ve taught me a lot.

“Don’t worry, Sarah,” he says with a smile, “if you want, you can take the horses with you. They belong in an open space like you hope to find. I’ve got a float you can hook up to the ute. Easy.”

Sarah brightens a bit but she is still down in the mouth, “I’ll miss you, Cliff.”

We all hug him and we also give him one of the hens because it somehow seems fair. He knows where the Potter place is if he wants to grab a few more when he is up to it.

“I think I’ll call her Sarah,” he says with a smile, “no offence.”

“None taken, it is the prettiest of the hens after all,” Sarah says with a laugh.

Chad doesn’t really want to get in the confined space with Bessy but a little gentle persuasion using Cliff and a carrot seems to work. We won’t get as far with the extra weight but at least we might have some transport if and when it’s required. He has given us some of his wife’s old riding equipment too.

“Come back and visit Sarah and I sometime!” Cliff shouts with a wave as we move off, the hen nestled in his arms.

It’s a nice thought, unlikely as it seems. A little optimism doesn’t hurt anyone. I stick my arm out of the window in a thankful salute to this new friend.

Sarah

I can’t really understand why someone would choose isolation at a time when people are so far apart but I guess everyone is different. I don’t think we did anything wrong and maybe we gave him a reason to keep living. That’s the thought I think I will keep with me.

Because of the shape of the north island, we have to go back to the main highway and go south for a short while before we can go east. John is driving quite slowly to ensure the horses aren’t injured. The road is clear and the car is running well, though the smell is rather unpleasant. It has started raining and we have to have the windows closed which isn’t helping. Rebecca has been quiet almost all day. I can’t imagine she enjoys having her nose remind her of what or who has passed.

We still haven’t seen any signs of human life as we make a left turn to head east.

John

It’s eerie, driving along empty roads, stomach grumbling away at wanting to be fed and the scent of death making you feel slightly nauseous all at once.

I’m constantly keeping tabs on the fuel gauge and so far we are making decent progress. I’d hope we make it past Tauranga, maybe even Te Puke. The latter seems an appropriate name for a possible destination given the scenario inside the car. They grow a lot of kiwi fruit around there, it ought to make a good spot for us to base ourselves, all being well. I try not to voice my hope because you just never know what you might find.

“I’ve ridden a horse,” I say to Sarah.

“Really?” she asks. I suspect she is waiting for the punchline.

I nod, looking at her in the rear-view mirror, “Yep. Twice actually. The first time I can remember being in awe of how big they are and how far off the ground I was. Nobody told me you need to support yourself using your legs. I basically bounced around for two hours on its back. It hurt.”

She laughs.

“The second time, the saddle wasn’t quite straight and I was tipping over through most of a guided trek. Only at the end did one of the guides notice and told me to stand up and push down with my foot on the opposite side, fixing the problem. I felt pretty stupid.”

Rebecca says to Sarah, “I don’t think we’re surprised, are we Sarah?”

“Nope,” she replies, shaking her head.

I smile at rather fond memories of those holidays taken with my own Sarah back then.

An odd sight presents itself ahead of us. It’s a café. And it’s open. There are tables and parasols outside. We can’t quite believe it.

“Shall we stop?” I ask.

“Might as well, I could do with a comfort break if nothing else,” Rebecca says.

I park up, ensuring the car is pointing towards the exit just in case we need to get out of here quickly.

“Sarah, wait here just in case,” I say, “and lock the doors.”

Rebecca comes with me. The door is wide open and Rebecca says, “Hello?” as we go in.

“Hello!” says a jovial voice with an accent that tells us she is not from these parts. “Welcome to my café! You are first visitor in weeks!”

A little old Chinese lady with grey hair steps out from behind a tall refrigerated counter where she was invisible to us. She appears genuinely delighted.

“You want food? You want drink? You’ve come to right place!” she chuckles.

Judging by the counter, I’m not sure there is much food to be had, nor what kind of payment she might want, but she directs us to a table and gives us some menus to peruse. It feels really weird to be playing a part in this odd play. It seems safe enough so I go outside and bring Sarah back in, locking the car tightly. The horses whinny to each other, presumably bored of their confinement.

I don’t think anything bad can happen here, but we’ll keep an eye open just the same.

Lockdown – Day Fourteen

Back again with Day Fourteen! Hope you’re still enjoying this tale. John is about to encounter his greatest challenge yet…

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DAY FOURTEEN

Sarah

I haven’t laughed so much in ages. Watching John trying to catch chickens is hilarious. He tried to get Rebecca to help him as he floundered around in the dirt, she just laughed and told him, “You’re doing just fine, besides we’d only get in each other’s way if I came in there too.”

The chicken coop was big enough for him to stand in but he still ended up on all-fours. I’ve never seen chickens have any cause to fly before today but they are showing they are a match for John. I think he thought it would be easy.

It’s wonderful to have tears of joy run down our faces.

It takes him over an hour to catch nine hens, the rooster he wants takes him another hour on its own and leads to him bleeding, both from the rooster giving as good as he gets and from scratching himself on the side of the coop. I suppose it serves him right in some way. None of this stops him looking a bit smug as he steps out for the final time, leaving the door open to the mother and her chicks, plus the remaining others, to leave when they will. The remainder of the pellet food goes into the car to feed them as we go.

John has christened the rooster ‘Mister Aggressive’, the rooster has probably christened him something far less pleasant.

He stinks after this. He takes off his clothes and puts them in a bin bag in the hope he can find somewhere to wash them later. He then does his best to have a wash from water retained in a water butt.  We don’t watch. At least he smells fresher than he did.

It is early afternoon by the time we are ready to leave. The car still smells slightly unpleasant but at least it’s a nice day so we can have the windows down. Rebecca seems to tolerate it but would rather not be here.

He revs the engine a couple of times and allows it to idle before we go. Nobody had any better ideas than what we came up with last night so we’re going to head east. Fingers crossed.

“Do you think we should stop at Cliff’s on the way past and see if he wants to come with us?” Rebecca asks.

I guess having an excuse to get out of here quickly is a good one but the car has four seats so it makes sense.

“Sure,” says John.

John

I doubt Cliff will be interested but it would seem rude not to ask. Not only is he the only decent person we’ve come across on our travels, he is also the only live person we’ve seen since we left Auckland.

I pull into his drive and park the car. We need to walk some of the way due to the gate being closed. The chickens cluck in what I assume is appreciation at being stationary. I knock on his door and am greeted by the shotgun once again.

“Is that any way to treat recently-acquired friends?” I ask him, he opens the door and has a big grin on his face.

“John! How are you? Did you find Rebecca’s parents? Did you pass on my regards?”

“Good, yes and it wasn’t possible,” I reply. “We wanted to come back to ask if you want to come with us? We are going to go east and thought, seeing as you helped us, whether you might want to join up?”

Sarah and Rebecca are looking at him expectantly over my shoulders. I can tell he wants to ask me more about Bill and Jennifer but something is telling him to let it rest.

“Where?” he asks.

“Bay of Plenty,” Rebecca replies for me, “it seems as good a place as any. We thought somewhere with farmland, a coast and a river should do the trick.”

“You don’t want much do you? A real Garden of Eden eh?” Cliff says with a chuckle.

“I know it’s a bit sudden but what do you think?” I ask.

“Can I sleep on it? You’re welcome to stop over again if you like. I’ll even let you move around at night!”

It’s good to know there are unselfish people still in the world, “OK, can I bring the car away from the road though? I don’t want the chickens to get taken after it took me so long to catch them,” I ask.

He laughs and hands me a key to unlock the gate, “Make sure you lock it again after you.”

Looks like we will get at least one more night of comfort. Tonight was looking uncertain anyway so it might be for the best.

Sarah

I feel like stopping here again is a gift I never expected. Being able to spend some time with the horses brings me so much joy. I wonder if maybe living in a city is overrated when you can have something like this just a short distance away. I noticed that the car has a tow bar so I wonder if Cliff has a horse float. That would be great. I’d be able to learn to ride Bessy and she would still have her little friend Chad too. Chad is not quite so forthcoming as Bessy. He tried to bite me when I fed him an apple that first time but he isn’t quite so feisty today, maybe he is starting to trust me a little.

I hope Cliff says yes. He might be on crutches but he can clearly do things we can’t and has experience we don’t have. I guess it’s all up to him.

Lockdown – Day Thirteen

Hi Readers. Hope you continue to enjoy this tale. I’m starting to see a conclusion on the horizon now. I’m pondering putting together a selection of short stories in future, perhaps around this kind of theme. I’m not sure yet though…what do you think?

Unlucky for some…here is day thirteen…

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DAY THIRTEEN

Sarah

While still sad, Rebecca seems more cheerful than I expected this morning. She is still quiet but maybe burying her parents at least means she can move on.

“What about today?” I ask to both her and John.

“The car has fuel which might get us two hundred kilometres in any direction,” he replies, “we just need to decide which direction we want to go in.”

He looks at us both hopefully. Maybe he doesn’t really care.

“That’s the hardest part,” Rebecca says. “We know what awaits us almost anywhere. Ghost towns, strife, eking out a living from the land or sea. It should’ve all been so different.”

“How do you mean?”

“If only humanity had learned from their mistakes. We’ve gained all of this knowledge from outbreaks in the past and we put petty squabbles and money first. What’s your money worth now? Nothing.”

John and I just looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

“Countries started ring-fencing medical supplies. Old alliances went out of the window. Poor countries suffered, of course, but then so did the rich. All the rich countries managed to achieve was to annoy others. Everyone still died. I can’t help but feel, despite my career of saving lives, that the best thing we could have done would be to respond how we do with things like avian flu, swine flu or foot and mouth – just cull the herd before it can spread. We might’ve had a chance if we had immediately closed borders and culled any outbreaks. Not very human of course but we know that kind of thing works with animals.”

John’s mouth was hanging a little open. Maybe mine was too.

“We always think our own lives are so much more important than those of other species. I guess you could argue that has now been proven to be false. So much for religions.”

She stopped. She looked at us both and smiled, “I’ll get off my soapbox now. There’s not much point complaining after the fact, it didn’t and it won’t change anything. The big plus is that we’ve culled the idiotic world leaders without lifting a finger.”

“So,” I venture hesitantly, “does anyone have a particular desire of where we go?”

We all just look at each other. Maybe we are all too scared to suggest anything, scared to dream.

“Maybe we all need to think about it for ourselves and then come back together to decide if we all go together or not?” John suggests. “If we don’t want anything, perhaps we go with the one who does?”

Rebecca and I nod in agreement, “OK,” she says.

“Assuming we talk more this evening,” John says while he stands up, “I’m going to see if I can catch some of the chickens to take with us.”

It’s too hard to resist watching this so we all go outside. John has found three old cat boxes which ought to be enough for around nine hens.

“We’ll need a rooster too,” Rebecca says, “eggs don’t tend to fertilise themselves.”

John finds a large plastic storage box and punches some holes in it, assuming he catches a male.

He starts by scattering a small amount of chicken pellets inside the coop and then a trail outside the coop which leads into it. We’ve seen and heard the chickens so we hope they will find it. He throws a handful of pellets in the direction of where we can hear them currently, and then we sit down to wait.

John

It occurs to me how much time I used to waste just staring at nothing on my phone as I sit and watch the chickens slowly and methodically peck their way along the ground in the direction of the coop. Right now, I’m technically wasting time but this kind of waste feels like it matters. As it drifted away from its family foundation, humanity was built up into a species that craved attention and craved information – most of which was really shallow and it didn’t really need. I should write that down! Mind you, there’s nobody to read it now.

I don’t think chickens are stupid but they sure are easy to manipulate, they don’t seem the least bit suspicious as they enter their former home. It was nice of Rebecca’s parents to give them their freedom before they chose to perish. We haven’t said the ‘suicide’ word, it would somehow cheapen their choice, made for reasons that must have felt exceptionally strong for them at the time. Rebecca thinks they had been dead for maybe a month. At least it wasn’t just yesterday because that would tear her apart.

I count a total of thirty chickens, including several chicks, as they saunter inside and I close the door. I shall try and catch them tomorrow before we go.

We’ve all had time to think a bit now and regroup after more eggs for our meal. I’ve found an opened bottle of Cointreau in a cupboard and poured us three shots. Sarah asked if she was allowed and I simply told her that we make our own rules now.

“Anyone had any thoughts since this morning?” I ask.

“I think I would like to go somewhere near the ocean,” Sarah starts, “somewhere we can grow things, fish, that kind of thing.”

“Maybe near a river,” Rebecca adds. “That would feel like a good thing to me.”

“Maybe we can have horses?” Sarah asks.

I nod, the car won’t last forever, after all.

“And sheep, cows, pigs and goats?” she extends her list.

“We’ll need a bigger ute,” I say with a grin. Rebecca and Sarah laugh at that which makes me feel good.

“We will need water, fuel and maybe electricity as well,” Rebecca says in a thoughtful voice, “but that doesn’t mean we need to live in a forest just to burn it down over time.”

This is starting to feel like an environmental decision too. Perhaps with everything humanity now knows about our world, we should think of it in such a way. Normality as it was was pretty screwed up anyway.

I have a moment of inspiration, “Should we go to the Bay of Plenty?”

Sarah and Rebecca look at each other. Sarah has never been there but Rebecca has. Even the name of it sounds promising.

“There are farms there for sure, might be a good option. At least we know the car can get us there,” Rebecca summarises.

We can think more overnight, but for now, it’ll do.

Lockdown – Day Twelve

Hi Readers. Hope your own version of lockdown is managing to keep you entertained and indeed employed. Hope this tale is helping with the first part of that statement too!

Here we go once more…day twelve…enjoy…

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DAY TWELVE

Sarah

I slept much better at Cliff’s house than here. Maybe it’s the deserted nature of this place or the feeling that we can’t stay here that is having a knock-on effect. I slept alone tonight. I assume Rebecca slept on the sofa, if she slept at all. She looks drawn this morning, like she has been crying quite a lot. I can empathise with her a bit, except for her it could be worse because she doesn’t know what has happened, at least I have the closure of knowing everyone in my family is dead.

“Would you like some fruit?” I ask, offering her an apple from yesterday.

She shakes her head and gives me a wry smile, “No thanks.”

I sit next to her and put my arm around her small shoulders. We sit in silence like that for a while. If I’ve learnt anything in recent months it is that the world used to be full of far too much noise and now is full of a lot of silence, but sometimes that is exactly what you need.

John

I decide not to intrude when I see Rebecca and Sarah together. Instead I figure I might as well prepare us to leave. In truth there isn’t much here for us to take. A few bits of dried or canned food that are left is about everything in addition to what we brought with us. I imagine Rebecca might like to take some sort of memento, maybe a photo, to help her remember but I don’t think now is the time to be talking about that kind of thing.

I search everywhere I can think of for keys to unlock the garage, through drawers, cupboards and hooks on the walls but keep drawing blanks each time. I decide I have to ask as it seems so important.

“Rebecca? Sorry to interrupt but I wondered if you know where your parents might have left a key for the garage?”

She looks at me like she resents my interruption and answers without really sounding like she is of this place, “Try my Dad’s coat pocket.”

“Thanks.”

Funny how you get to know the foibles of others. In a khaki parka hanging by the front door, there they are.

I try to temper my enthusiasm in the hope of finding a car in here. It feels like too much to hope for. When I open the door and lift it up my heart soars because there it is! A red Holden ute. A big smile creeps over my face. A break at last! The smell of oil and grease greets my nose, I’ve always liked the smell of garages.

“Yes!” I shout, rather loudly, now hoping for a full tank of petrol.

I then notice that something isn’t quite right. It’s partly the smell, and partly the sight. A hosepipe is going into one of the car windows and in amongst the shadows it is now clear that there are two bodies in the car. I stare at the scene for a while, I don’t know what to do.

“No!” Rebecca shouts from behind me.

I turn round and try to block her from seeing anything but it’s too late. She pushes past me to look into the car. I notice the wheelchair is in here. It would be hard to identify them but there seems little doubt that this must be her parents. They are holding hands. United in a death that seemed preferable to whatever life might have befallen. The virus claimed victims even without its own parasitic success.

“I’m sorry,” I offer, “I didn’t realise they were there.”

She doesn’t reply. She is pressed up to the window.

Sarah

How do you comfort someone in this situation? Nobody has ever told me. I have no real experience of such a thing. I don’t know what to say. John clearly feels that absence is the best policy as he has notably not been here since he found them. I don’t know where he is. I watched Rebecca for maybe half an hour before she announced that she wanted to bury them.

“Can I help?” I ask.

“Please,” is all she replies, grabbing shovels from hooks on the wall, passing one to me.

The ground is fairly tough to dig but we find somewhere close to a small stream that runs through the patch of land that seems softer. We make good progress but it still takes hours to get a hole that we consider to be deep enough, just a few feet, but wide enough for them both.

Dragging the bodies from the car is a harrowing experience. Rebecca has a grim determination which must be born of her job; her mind must be telling her it is just a body she has to deal with like any other. We end up dragging them on a tarpaulin, which also doubles as a way of wrapping them respectfully. She positions them so they are holding hands once more in the hole. She cries again as she does this.

I’m surprised when Rebecca declares that she would like to put up a cross to mark the grave. I didn’t think doctors tended to believe in God. We find some wood and nail a crude cross together to stand in the filled-in ground. She writes ‘Bill & Jennifer Potter’ in black marker pen on the wood. It won’t last forever but it’ll do.

“Would you mind leaving me here for a while?” she asks me once we’ve done.

I place my hand on her shoulder and say, “Sure.”

I take the shovels with me and place them back in the garage. John is in here. He has apparently been cleaning the inside of the car. It smells strongly of pine disinfectant mixed with an undertone of death in here. He smiles a half smile at me when I come in.

“There’s petrol!” he announces. “Half a tank. I guess they somehow switched the engine off once enough carbon monoxide was present.”

He seems to realise that what he has just said is insensitive beyond belief.

“I might only be young but you’re pretty sick, you know?”

He looks guilty and suitably admonished.

“Thank goodness Rebecca isn’t here with me, I don’t know how she’d react. Can we maybe go indoors and think about this tomorrow?”

He climbs out of the vehicle and says, “Sure. Sorry. I didn’t know what to do.”

“You could’ve just been there and helped.”

For a man of words he didn’t find any.

Lockdown – Day Eleven

Day Eleven…I wonder how many days there will be…I don’t know…but let’s see what happens after the comparative rest at the end of day 10…enjoy!

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DAY ELEVEN

John

I wouldn’t say I’ve ever been a great sleeper but lying on an old mattress on the floor in a strange house isn’t a great recipe for peaceful slumber. It doesn’t seem to bother Rebecca and Sarah though. I’ve been listening to their gentle breathing, and occasional snoring, for some hours.

I’m relieved when I hear the key turn in the lock of the room so I can go outside. Even though it was a precaution on Cliff’s part and I wasn’t alone, it still felt like a prison cell.

I find him in his kitchen with the kettle going, he has limited solar energy which stretches to the occasional luxury like coffee and tea.

“Good morning,” he says, “I thought you might like coffee today? Set you up for the day ahead.”

Only now do I think that it feels like an age since I had coffee, “Thank you. It might help blow away the cobwebs. We’ve got a big walk ahead today.”

It doesn’t take long for Sarah and Rebecca to stumble through. Rebecca’s leg seems quite a bit better judging by her movement. Sarah is back to normal now as far as I can tell from the short time I’ve known her. I think she might be a little sad to leave the horses behind.

Sarah doesn’t drink coffee and simply has boiled water. Each to their own. The bitterness of the coffee tastes wonderful. Cliff has found some apples from his small orchard which we decide to take with us. Sarah also feeds the horses a couple of the less-appetising fruits as a farewell gift to them. He is pretty well set here, with his own bore for water to add to the luxuries. I hope Rebecca’s parents place is as good.

We gather our things for the day ahead.

“Sorry we can’t stay longer, Cliff,” I say, “Would it be OK if we looked you up again if we pass back this way in future?”

“Sure,” he says good-naturedly, “it’s always nice to have good company, and now I know you can be trusted I might not lock you in the room next time.”

We all smile, he breaks the moment by saying to Rebecca, “Don’t forget to say that Cliff Lomax says hello to your parents. Tell them to drop by anytime if they’re in the area.”

She nods and thanks him, seemingly keen to move on, the only one of us to do so. Perhaps it is different for her as she actually has somewhere she wants to get to, Sarah and I are just tagging along.

Sarah

I feel sad to have left Cliff. He seems a nice man and his house is in a lovely place too. He has everything he needs, though I doubt he has everything that four people need to survive. Rebecca has been keen to move on since we arrived and her attitude has felt a little infectious.

At least we should be there later today. The sun is out so the going is tough, with each passing cloud delivering some degree of respite. I am able to help John with the bags today and Rebecca is walking much more freely so progress is swifter. We still don’t talk that much as we all just want to get to our destination and save as much energy as we can. The roads are really quiet and we hear no traffic. We can hear the varied screeching of the myna birds as we walk, maybe annoyed at the lack of insect roadkill for them to eat these days. In some places the sound of cicadas is quite deafening. The wind blows across the fields, many of which have untended crops in them now. While it’s far from ideal, I find some broccoli which we eat raw for lunch.

A real highlight of the trip is a discarded shopping trolley from Pak ‘n Save which we are able to fit our bags into, so much easier than carrying them! John especially breathes a sigh of relief, although pushing a trolley on a road surface isn’t without its challenges.

It is later in the afternoon by the time Rebecca suddenly becomes animated and points at a house in the distance, surrounded by native bush.

“That’s it!”

She is smiling, but in a guarded way, because none of us knows what to expect.

“I hope they’re OK,” I say to her.

“Me too,” she replies, “I’d rather not think about the opposite.”

I put my arm around her, “Me neither.”

When we arrive at the house, the driveway appears overgrown, not that gardening would be top of anyone’s list anymore. It is more of a bush track. Rebecca takes the lead as we walk towards the house. The bush is pretty dense either side of the drive but not much is moving in there; I learnt in school that New Zealand’s wildlife had been taking a hit long before its people. And without the people managing pest numbers I guess it has an uncertain future again.

John parks the trolley outside the house and stretches. It’s another bungalow though not as large as Cliff’s place. It is made of timber and has a couple of corrugated metal outbuildings. I think I can hear chickens out there somewhere. Rebecca goes to knock on the door. Nobody answers.

“Hello?” she shouts. She pushes the door and it opens freely. “Hello?”

Still nothing. She looks disappointed and concerned all at once. I can tell just how much she had been looking forward to coming home and being with her parents.

There is nothing to indicate anyone has been here for a while. Everything inside is still. There is a thin layer of dust on furniture and cobwebs drape from the ceiling, with their owners patiently awaiting their next victim. If it wasn’t for the dust, it would look like a very well-kept home, dated but functional.

“They must’ve gone,” John says. “I’m sorry.”

Rebecca nods. She then finds a handwritten note upon the dining table addressed to her. She reads it and a tear drips from her eye. She drops the letter and I pick it up. I can’t help but read it.

  Rebecca

We didn’t know if you would come here to look for us. We’re so deeply sorry if you do. The uncertainty of living here has meant that we have decided to move on. The virus hasn’t got us but life here is impossible, especially with a wheelchair to consider. We were already indoors most of the time anyway and now with this to contend with, we don’t see how we can live here and thrive so we have taken the decision to go. If you find this, we hope you understand. May you live long and find happiness.

Your loving parents,

Mum & Dad

xxx

 Rebecca has left the room to be by herself. John and I know when not to intrude so we give her some space and we explore the house for supplies. It looks like there is enough to eat for a few days, and we have water in the taps too. There are chickens out there as well so maybe we can find some eggs too.

Outside, the chicken coop is open and there are some birds coming and going. We find some eggs which is great! The garage is locked up tight. Maybe there is a car with petrol in there; that would be handy. John makes a mental note to look for a key.

Rebecca doesn’t join us for food, which is an odd combination of pasta with eggs, cooked over gas. It’s nice to get some protein. John and I leave Rebecca in peace and we go to find some comfortable beds for the night.

Lockdown – Day Ten (continued again)

Hi everyone. Hope you had a fun Easter break in whatever state of lockdown/isolation you happen to be living in at present. In case you’ve been on tenterhooks all weekend awaiting this instalment, I hope it lives up to expectations…we can finally get to Day Eleven tomorrow!

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DAY TEN (continued again)

Sarah

I like Rebecca. She’s nice. It seems like so long since I had someone I can relate to and who appears to have motivation outside of just herself. I miss my mum a lot. I miss my brother too.

I’m relieved we’ve found a house at last. The weather can change so fast around here that the last place you want to be is without a roof over your head at night, or during the day for that matter. When it rains, it pours. That seems a more appropriate adage than ever after recent months.

When we finally catch him up, John has dropped the bags and is standing in the middle of the driveway, staring fixedly at the house. He doesn’t turn around as we approach.

“Please?” he asks.

Rebecca and I see the object of his focus together, Rebecca pushes me to the side of the drive and tells me with some urgency to “Get down.”

Two barrels of a shotgun protrude from the gap in the doorway. I can’t see a face behind it but I can hear the voice. It’s a man’s voice, maybe a little older judging by a slightly frail element.

“Why should I help you? You could kill me in my sleep!” the voice argues.

“You can see there are three of us just like I said before. We are only asking for a roof for the night and maybe some food and water if you have some you can spare? Please?” John asks.

The doorway remains silent. The shotgun remains steady. I remain low to the ground away from John and Rebecca. Rebecca is partially hidden behind a rhododendron bush and gesticulating for me to stay where I am. I’ve only just noticed the horses, one a large female with chestnut coat and a white stripe down her nose, the other is a smaller grey pony; I guess they’re friends. A big smile must’ve crossed my face and I stand up, moving to the animals. The larger horse approaches me, maybe looking for food. I offer my hand so it can smell me – it huffs onto me and stamps it front foot on the ground, maybe saying “Feed me.”

“Get away from there!” the doorway shouts.

“I love horses, sorry.” I continue to smile. “Can I help you clean and feed them?”

The door opens a little more and the face of an older man leans out, “What?”

“I can help you, if you like.” I hope he says yes. It’s years since I last touched a horse.

The gun lowers a little and the door opens. The man is on crutches. He has a long white beard and his hair is a bit of a mess. He is wearing a vest, showing a number of tattoos, presumably from days as part of a motorcycle gang.

He faces changes from stern to more relaxed, “OK, I guess I could use a little help for a change. You can all sleep in the guest room if you don’t mind being together. I’ll have to lock the bedroom door though to be on the safe side. I guess I can stretch to food and water.”

He smiles, “My name is Cliff. Bring your stuff in and we can get settled. Sorry for the gun, I can’t be too careful these days.”

John

Phew. What a relief. I thought he was going to shoot. Now that we are settled, Cliff seems nice enough. He’s been on crutches since twisting his ankle a few weeks back. Lucky for him he had the crutches; apparently they had kept them after his wife had broken her foot some years previously. He tells us she died from the virus.

“Sorry,” I offer.

He looks sad for a moment, haunted, “It’s OK now, but part of me still wishes I had gone too. I don’t even know if my kids are still alive, they both live in Australia.”

“Sorry we can’t do more to help. We’re only here for the night, we’re looking for Rebecca’s parents.”

“One day of help is better than nothing. What are your parents called?” he asks Rebecca.

“Bill and Jennifer,” Rebecca says. I don’t think she entirely trusts Cliff so her words are clipped.

“Potter?” he asks.

Rebecca nods.

“I’ve met them. Nice people.”

You have to love New Zealand sometimes. It’s the world’s biggest village. Everybody knows everybody if they can, if only so it can fuel the gossip. Her parents are another ten kilometres away at least.

“Thank you,” she says, relaxing a little.

“I guess if you made it, maybe they did too. Assuming survival is genetic.”

With that, he suddenly seems to make a decision and struggles to his feet, “Right, let’s sort out those horses before it gets dark, shall we?”

He then adds to Rebecca and I, “Hope you’re good at preparing meat.”

Sarah beams with delight and they go outside together with Cliff supervising. Rebecca and I are on cooking duties. Cliff must have a thriving vegetable patch here because we almost feel spoilt for choice. He even has a chicken which needs plucking. We guess there is a first time for everything but get to work. We can’t believe it.

The rest of the evening is spent peacefully, trying to avoid talking about the past but instead the future, though even that is vague; it’s just not clear if anyone really has such a thing to look forward to. We ask if Cliff would like to journey with us but he’s not inclined to leave, especially with his ankle being how it is.

When night comes, Cliff follows his word and locks the three of us into a guest room. Rebecca is very uncomfortable with this arrangement but we don’t really have any choice. Rebecca and Sarah share the bed; I have a spare mattress on the floor. It’s cosy enough though. Let’s hope he remembers to unlock the room in the morning.