Chapter 39

Convalescing wasn't easy. Bennie and I celebrated Halloween and Thanksgiving as real patients. I could walk a little by Thanksgiving but it was painful. It was mid December before Bennie was trying to walk. He was weak from lying in bed and stiff from not having been able to move. It was so good to sleep together in a real bed though.

We started what Doc Ollie called our rehab period right after the New Year. It was torture but we stuck to it. We both wanted to regain our old physical abilities and knew it would take work. I don't think either of us realized how painful retraining our muscles would be. We learned. Over the next few weeks, we learned that the pain eventually lessened and we could see real progress as our muscle tone and wind returned.

Poppa still wanted a trip to the north and we wanted to go as soon as we were able. We were studying information downloaded years ago when the Internet still worked and, though old and out of date, it would still give us the lay of the land and a general idea of weather. Bennie and I talked about it and didn't want to be trying to deal with snow. We would delay until well into spring before leaving to be sure we wouldn't be caught on horseback and having to fight bad weather. A delay would also give us more time to get back into shape.

We left in mid May heading up I﷓75 through Atlanta through Chattanooga to Knoxville. We would continue to follow I﷓75 north to Detroit. It would be a long haul of over seven hundred miles. From there, we would continue up I﷓75 to Sault Ste Marie, which was another three hundred miles north. Once we were north of Ohio, we would be in new territory and in a more northern climate.

We were in Kentucky when Bennie first heard it and then saw it. It was an airplane! Like idiots, we waved. We looked at each other and laughed when it disappeared.

I said, "That was dumb. I'm sure they could see us at a hundred miles an hour way up there when we're wearing drab clothes to keep from standing out."

Bennie chuckled, "You're right but it did seem like the thing to do. My question is, where did it come from and where is it going?"

It crossed our path from right to left. We listened and could hear nothing. Bennie said, "It's' late afternoon. Let's stop early, get on the radio, and look at some maps."

We prepared our camp in an old farm, set up our antenna and began to look at maps. We had passed Corbin this morning but were in the middle of nowhere now! There wasn't a large town in either direction on our map.

We discussed the situation with Poppa over the radio. He could look at a map, too. Finally, he suggested that we stay for a day or two hoping that the plane would reappear and we could put a compass on its course. He felt it was important to locate the flyer. The airport at the Free District had tantalized him and he talked about flying for exploration purposes to try to locate new communities over large areas. He felt it would allow our on-ground efforts to be more focused by having an idea of where people were located and maybe even landing some times when that was feasible. Poppa's grand design was hampered by the lack of pilots and no knowledge of aviation fuel in other airports. I had the feeling he was reading as much information as he could find but I also knew Momma would not permit any harebrained schemes to taxi much less takeoff.

We spent a quiet night in a barn as usual with our sleeping bags over a layer of straw. We were used to that and found sleeping and loving very nice. In the morning, we started a cook fire and prepared and ate breakfast. Bennie added some green wood for smoke and a long, thin spiral of smoke rose into the morning air. He said that we might as well make ourselves obvious.

There was a nice little stream close by with a miniature waterfall. We took turns washing in the cold, clear water. It felt good and we donned clean clothes. I decided that, since we would be in one place for a day, that I would wash everything. I washed all our clothes and hung them on ropes we had with us. I even hung our sleeping bags out to air in the bright sunshine. It was a beautiful late spring day. I went into the farmhouse and found some white sheets that we laid in the ground to spell, "hi," holding them in place with rocks. We waited while the clothes dried and the sun traced its way lazily across the sky. [Ed. Always wanted to use that phrase!]

In the middle of the afternoon, we heard the plane. Bennie added some green leaves to our fire increasing its smoke column. The plane banked a bit and flew over our camp. It returned and waggled its wings. We waved. I could see it clearly now. I was a small single engine plane with the wing over the cockpit. I'm sure a knowledgeable person could have identified it but I wasn't one of those people. Neither was Bennie. We continued to wave. Bennie saw a window open and a small item fall from the plane. We ran to it. It was a note that read, "We can land at London-Corbin Airport off exit 38. If you will meet us there, change your 'hi" to a "y."

Bennie looked at me and I nodded. We ran over and changed the "hi" to a "y" and went to saddle up our horses. The plane waggled its wings and turned north. We looked at the map and both of us saw where we had to go. We mounted up and headed north at a canter.

It was about ten miles and Bennie had us put on our radios to make talking easier. He said, "We can get off and cut across country and come to the airport from the west. At least, I think so. If this is an ambush, we will have some element of surprise."

I replied, "I agree though I hope they are nice people."

"Me, too. I just don't want a surprise."

We rode on until we could see the airfield to our right. We left the Interstate and headed across old streets in an almost direct line to the airport. We could see the plane stopped out in the middle of the runway and two people were standing outside it. We left our rifles in their rigs and rode up. At about a hundred yards, they heard us and turned our way. Bennie yelled, "Hello!" in a joyous voice and we both waved. The others waved back.

We came to about fifteen feet, stopped, and dismounted. Holding the reins, we came forward and Bennie said, "Hello, again. My name is Bennie Sullivan and this is my wife, Janice. We are on an exploration mission for Preservation, a Georgia community." He put his hand out and one of the men took it and shook it vigorously.

He said, "I'm glad to meet you. I'm Tom Albers and this is my brother, Vic. We live close to the Somerset airport and keep this plane running to give us a chance to fly. Our wives are at the airport and we need to go there soon to keep them from worrying."

Vic said, "You are from Preservation. I haven't heard of any place named that. Where is it and what is it?"

I told him. I also told him about our radios. The radios and the electricity that we generated really caught his attention.

When I finished, he said, "I want to continue this conversation as soon as possible. What you are doing is vital to preserving civilization. Oh, I get the name." He chuckled.

Vic looked at us and said, "Would you be willing to join us in Somerset? I would like for us to be able to contact your folks and have some of your technology available. Perhaps, we can do something with airplanes that would have value to you."

We agreed after looking at a map. We said we would return to our camp tonight and head their way in the morning. That met with their approval and we shook hands all around and parted company for now.

We woke early to thunder and lightning. Bennie and I looked at each other and curled up tightly planning to wait it out. By mid morning, it became obvious that this wasn't going to be a quick shower but a long, steady rain. Bennie said, "We'll cook inside and stay here. I see no point in making ourselves and the horses miserable. It rained all day, some of it hard and some fairly light, though never quite slowing to a drizzle.