Uncle Peter planted a small patch of marijuana next to the barn, so Jeannie could see it from her bedroom window. He set up a wire fence to keep the chickens out. Then he planted a sign that read "Bridge Troll". We already had enough marijuana to last for many years, and Uncle Peter showed little interest in using it himself. So it was obvious his primary motivation was to annoy Jeannie.
The plants sprouted lethargically and only grew to a pathetic four inches before cold weather stunted further development. Later, we would learn the seeds had been planted improperly and FAR too late in the year.
Nonetheless, the effort had the desired effect on Jeannie. Each stalk was a defiant totem that mocked her. Her frustration pleased Uncle Peter to no end.
--------------------------------------------------------
110 days after the peak, September 17th, was my 12th birthday. I was so busy helping Uncle Peter run the farm, I completely forgot about my own birthday. My family, on the other hand, did remember. In fact, one of the items my mother brought with her from the loft was the birthday present she had bought ahead of time. A "My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic" book. I LOVED it!
My parents also TRIED to bake me a cake. Unfortunately, baking instructions such as "preheat oven to 350° and bake for 45 minutes" are not applicable when using post-apocalyptic wood-burning stoves. The cake was burnt on the outside and liquid on the inside. But I appreciated the effort. The dogs appreciated the leftovers.
--------------------------------------------------------
It was October, and Elwood's was enjoying the death throes of Indian summer. The trees had yet to shed their leaves, but most had turned vibrant hues of amber and gold.
After hours of labor, Gina Strauss gave birth to a healthy baby girl. Gina and Colin named her Crystal. Because she was born after the peak, we had all assumed Crystal would be immune to agoraphobia. Unfortunately, when Uncle Peter and I tried to take her outside, Crystal was crippled with anxiety. You can imagine our disappointment, as it appeared new generations would be cursed with agoraphobia. The long-term implications were grim.
--------------------------------------------------------
In early December of that year, I was scavenging in Belleville with Uncle Peter. The sun was weakly shining in a murky winter sky, and the air felt cold against my exposed skin. The trees had lost their colorful leaves and were embarrassingly bare, sporting only dried brown branches and a sprinkling of white snow.
While we were temporarily separated, I stumbled upon a trunk of marijuana paraphernalia in some dead guy's basement. It included rolling papers, bongs, a hookah, pipes, psychedelic posters, a "Cannabis Cookbook", and "Grower's Guide". I cleverly smuggled the trunk past Uncle Peter by telling him it contained "feminine hygiene products". On Christmas, I gave the trunk to him as a present. I meant it to be a gag gift, but Uncle Peter genuinely LOVED it.
What had started out as a way to annoy Jeannie soon became a fun hobby for Uncle Peter. In April, following the advice in the "Grower's Guide", Uncle Peter replanted the Bridge Troll patch. With lots of seeds still left over, he planted more "Bridge Troll" in the woods, along the highway, near the trash dump, and (appropriately enough) under the bridge. And yet he still had not used most of the seeds. Nor had he yet to plant any of the special ones from the shoe box.
--------------------------------------------------------
Marijuana, of course, was just a hobby for Uncle Peter. More important to him were his efforts to grow critical crops such as corn, wheat, potatoes, onions, garlic, lettuce, spinach, cabbage, and tomatoes. (And, a few years later, grapes and tea.)
Donna's knowledge was invaluable in this regard. For example, we never even heard of "seed saving" before. Even Ellis and Margaret didn't know it was the science of harvesting viable seeds from established crops. Uncle Peter and I worked hard and created an impressive garden.
--------------------------------------------------------
While the garden required constant attention, the Bridge Troll patch by the barn did not. After just a few months, it was thick with lush, green marijuana plants taller than me. The ones Uncle Peter had haphazardly planted in other places fared almost as well. (Donna speculated the seeds were bred specifically for the midwest.) In the years that followed, we discovered Bridge Troll would grow wild and flourish all on its own.
--------------------------------------------------------
It was about this time that Bender had become fully grown. He and Bryce were the same size, but had contrasting personalities. Bryce was a big ball of goofy energy, while Bender was all business. As Donna had predicted, the "chicken dog" had become an excellent livestock protector. Bender's ability to detect predators before they had a chance to cause harm was almost supernatural.
[Please remember to vote for this chapter.]
YOU ARE READING
Agoraphobia
General FictionA heroic eleven-year-old girl struggles to survive in a dying world plagued by a contagious form of agoraphobia (fear of being outside).
