Self Apocalypse: The Beginning by John French Read Free Book Online Page B

and got out.  The barn doors were opened wide, and you could see it was full of stuff.  I mean stuff.  It looked like they had been collecting things for generations.  It would have been the antique gold mine of dreams if the market was stable.  I entered and had a look around.  Everything was very organized and easy to view.  It was like walking through a consignment shop the size of a department store. 
     
    “Can I help you?”  A voice called out from the doorway where I had just entered.
     
    “Yeah, I saw your ad on the board in town, and just wanted to take a look at what you had.”  I couldn’t see him too well with the sunlight to his back, but I could tell he was one of the old timers in town.  As he walked up to me I could see he was wearing tattered overalls and work boots.  Yep, this was definitely a working farm.   I stepped forward and extended my hand.  “I’m Jeremiah.  I just moved to the area this spring.”
     
    “You must be the man living in the mountains I heard about in town.”  He grasped my hand shaking it firmly.  For an older guy he was strong.  I mean like an ox.  I think he could have cracked my hand like a walnut if he wanted to.  Guess that was from a life on the farm.
     
    “That’s me.”, I started to say recovering my hand from his vise grip. “I was hoping you might have some things I could use.”
     
    A smile raced from ear to ear on his face.  “So you’re livin’ in the hills, and your name is Jeremiah?”
     
    Right away I knew where he was going with this.  It was kind of ironic mixed with some humor, and already I could see the jokes circulating in town.
     
    “Yeah”, I chuckled a bit, “but my last name’s not Johnson.”  I must have hit it right on the nose, because he started laughing up a storm.
     
    “Well, what kind things are you looking for?”
     
    “Anything to help around my camp really.  I need to figure a way to wash my clothing better than the bucket and hand method.  I was also wondering if you sold any beef or other food here too.”
     
    “I can definitely help you young man.  As a matter of fact I have a washboard in the back, and some metal wash tubs.  I think that’ll help you quite a bit.  As for food I have a milking heard, but I do sell bottled milk and we have laying hens if you need eggs.”
     
    He guided me through the barn filled jungle to the back where he pulled out a washboard.  “Here you go.” he said handing me the washboard.  Then we walked back towards the front of the barn.  “Right here.” he said.  “These wash tubs are small, but plenty big to wash your clothes in.”
     
    It was perfect.  Exactly what I needed.  I bought one of the tubs, the washboard, a bottle of his “finest” milk, and some eggs.  I thanked him for his help, and headed back into town.  He had told me something that startled me a bit.  I couldn’t help but think about it on the ride back.  I had asked him how he was managing to make enough to pay taxes, and he said he didn’t.  He hadn’t paid in over two years, but the town was not issuing liens.  As a matter of fact the town no longer had officials.  It couldn’t afford to pay anyone, not even a town clerk.  The town’s people met once every month to run official business.  This wasn’t the only town either.  Things were getting real bad.  There was no revenue anywhere, and it was so widespread that the state and federal government couldn’t do anything about it.  It was like the entire country was floating on borrowed dollars.  I began to wonder if the government would start demanding other things for revenue.  I shook my head while picturing tax collectors demanding milk and eggs for collection of taxes.  It was a funny thought, but horrifying considering the truth hidden within.
     
    I decided to head back to camp and check on the snowmobile the following week.  I enjoyed coming out today, and wanted an excuse to come back and