Survival of the 70's

Survival of the 70's | Part One: Papa's Gun

It was a bright, cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen. Papa had just come back inside from chopping logs for our woodstove and mama was busy in the kitchen preparing our families lunch. Ever since this whole thing began, we've been living off of potatoes and carrots. It's quite an odd combination but it seems to be the only think mother can grow, everything else doesn't live for very long. For context, 8 years ago now, Russia invaded the US through Alaska, and unfortunately the war was quick to end. It started June 23rd, 1968 and ended September 11th 1968. It was so short due to the nuclear bombs that were dropped on both countries. The fallout killed hundreads of millions and left north america in shambles. Only few groups of people survived. Unfortunately our group had all died off by this point and it was just us left on the farm. We didn't have a big house or anything in our old life, but after we fled to the north of Canada, we had to move into a super tiny trailer house that can barely fit us three. The other families lived in trailer homes on the lot but they weren't so lucky. Now, we stay here, waiting for something to happen or for someone to show up. We aren't too sure what life outside our area is life, if there even is any, but we're sure it isn't a safe place anymore. Even during the war, the United States became a very lawless land. There was looting and gangs who rose up to take control of cities. Unfortunately, our city was one that fell victim to one of these gangs. It was a scary time and we were lucky to have survived. I owe my life to papa, knowing that if he didn't help us escape, we surely would have been murdered. "Would you like one or two baked potatoes for lunch dear?" mama asked me in her usual chipper tone. "Uhh, just one will do. Maybe we can split the second one in half?" I replied. Mama was a very selfless woman who was always looking out for me before herself. "No no, if you want one and a half surely you'd like two. I'll just make you two." "Thank you mama." She was always looking after me and my father, even if he insisted he didn't need her help. My papa reminds me of a house cat in a way, feisty and territorial, but wouldn't survive a day on his own, hell I wouldn't doubt it if he didn't know how to fold a t-shirt. Papa threw his jacket over the chair that sat in the corner of the room and took a seat at the table, making a loud thump as he hit the base. "What are ya makin?" he asked to mama. "Take a guess... potatoes obviously." He laughed a bit and replied "Oh, right." while making a funny face at me. I giggled at the sight of his tongue sticking out of his face, he looked a bit scruffy and dirty, but he was very soft and I could tell he loved me very much. Mama made her way over to the table in the left corner of the house. The kitchen was inconveniently far from the dining area, something we had been meaning to fix but never got around to it. "Fuck! Fuck!" she yelped on her way over the table, almost charging at us. She threw down the plates and gave out one big breath before repeating once more, "fuck." She held out her hands at me and papa and said "Look at that! Look at what those potatoe bastards did to my hands!" Papa and I both began laughing, almost to the point of falling off our seats. Through the laughing I managed to squeak out, "Your hands look fine mama." before continuing laughing, now on the floor. For a moment she looked a bit confused, then pulled her hands back and looked at them, they were perfectly fine and she was just being overdramatic. If theres one thing mama is good at, it's making everything a bigger deal than it needs to be. Unfortunately, moments like these are rare in my house. Everything is pretty serious around here, papa sits outside most of the day, pacing around the house, shotgun in hand, prepared to defend us from whatever intruder attempts to break onto our property. Mama and I tend to have more fun inside but I always feel bad everytime I laugh without papa around. I feel as if he does not get to have nearly any fun and misses out on fun moments. One day I hope to take his job as guard so he can have more fun with mama and share the laughs I did with her. Since the potato incident, approximatly 13 days have passed since then. It's hard to keep track and I stupidly never tally how many days have passed. Today was more of a sunny and warm day. There was almost no wind, just a slight breeze that was really only noticeable when you look up at the treeline. One of my favourite things is sitting outside in the hammock staring up at the trees, listening to them rustle and sway. Today was one of those days. Mama was in the garden, trying her hand at growing tomatoes. I really hope they work, tomatoes are a taste I've been missing. I was just about to get up and see if she needed help when I heard something to the right of me. It was the sounds of sticks cracking on the ground. I whipped my head around to look what made that noise. Nothing was there, no chipmunks, no deer, nothing. I was a bit on edge but carried on my travels towards the garden. I got about 5 steps forward before hearing more noises in the bush. I once again threw my head back and once again, nothing. This time I ran, not looking back at what could lay behind me. I ran straight past the garden and made my way to papas post. I grabbed his arm and shook him awake. He shot up and said "Huh? What? What's wrong what's happening?" I replied, "I heard something, in the woods, can you go take a look?" He raised an eyebrow at me and said "You're sure it's not just an animal?" I nodded my head and pointed over towards the hammock. He stood up and said "Alright, let me take a look." He began walking towards the bush. He was walking slower than usual and was gripping his shotgun much tighter. I think he wanted to seem more calm when I was there, but now that I'm gone, his nerves began showing through. He made his way past the garden, mama stood up and asked "What's wrong where are you going?" He turned around and put his finger over his mouth. Mamas face immediately turned from confused to afraid. She turned around and ran at me, grabbing my hand and taking me inside. We locked the door and watched from the window. A man appeared from behind a bush and raised his gun in papas face. Papa in-turn quickly raised his gun and they began shouting at eachother. Papa was asking where he came from, and the man was asking why papa was here. The two men kept yelling this question over and over again until eventually papa pulled his trigger. A loud bang shot throughout the forest, surly scaring any nearby animals. Mama and I jolted at the sound and mama screamed. The man fell over and papa just stood there in shock. Papa turned around and began towards the trailer when the man reached over, grabbed his hunting rifle. Mama opened the window and screamed at papa "BEHIND YOU!" but it was too late, the man pulled the trigger and papa dropped to the ground. As he fell we made eye contact. He had a look of pure terror in his eyes. Immedietly after firing the shot, the man dropped the gun and laid lifeless on the forest floor. Mama and I ran out towards papa. He was still alive but very wounded. He grabbed my hand and said "Josephine, please look after mama for me". He turned his head and looked up at the sky, whispering "Wow, the trees are so beautiful, I can't believe it took me all this time to notice." and, to our bitter grief, with a smile and in silence, he died, and gallant gentleman.