Ten Days. John Sheppard

shopping. As always, the market was packed with fresh vegetables, fruit, homemade baked goods, and people.

      Most of the vendors were farmers from the Dutch Brown Friends. Their name was actually Deutsche Bruder des Friedens, or German Brethren of Peace, but over the years, the English term had become Dutch Brown Friends. The same thing had happened to the Pennsylvania Deutsche, they had become the Pennsylvania Dutch in the USA.

      The Deutsche Bruder des Friedens were of Mennonite background and had come to these shores centuries before, seeking refuge from religious persecution in Europe. They had settled into the rich, flat ground which lay between the capital and Stonecrest.

      They wore clothing which was very plain, and either dark grey or dark brown in color. The women always wore flat shoes, dresses to their ankles, and a lace bonnet. The men wore wide-brimmed hats, either coveralls or pants held up with suspenders, and dark long-sleeved shirts. The only item of color other than brown or grey was worn by the men. All the men wore a bright red and white-checkered handkerchief tied around their necks. The handkerchiefs had become acceptable to these otherwise conservative-dressing people because it helped them easily find each other when harvesting amid the browns and tans of the fall crops.

      Despite the military conditions, the gathering had an almost festive flair. Jackie guessed that there were at least one hundred vendors present, and easily two to three hundred or more citizens of the capital, looking to find just the right produce. She and Mandy parted ways, as they normally did, allowing each to search for their favorite foods and vendors. They agreed to meet back at the car at ten.

      Jackie was looking for her favorite farmer in the middle of this crowd. Where are Herr and Frau Swartz? she thought. After scanning the farmers for a few minutes, Jackie found him close to the high school, almost on the outside fringe of the crowd.

      As Jackie drew close to Herr Swartz’s old red pickup truck, she heard his booming voice call out, “Frau Whitman, I thought maybe you weren’t coming.” He maintained the expected formality with which all the Dutch Browns greeted each other in public. While formal, there was genuine warmth to his greeting. His ear-to-ear smile and twinkling grey-blue eyes made Jackie feel like she was Herr Swartz’s only granddaughter, instead of a customer.

      “I couldn’t find you at first, and thought perhaps you weren’t here,” Jackie cheerfully replied.

      She saw the smile quickly fade from the big man’s face. “It’s my Gladys,” he said, the formality suddenly gone from the conversation. “She’s not doing too well today. I couldn’t find her this morning, until I looked in the pantry. It caused us to be late.”

      “May I speak to her, Herb?” ask Jackie gently.

      “Certainly, Frau Whitman. She is in the cab, but she will not know you today. Her mind is very addled.”

      Gladys Swartz was in an advanced stage of Alzheimer’s. Once a woman of sharp wit, a bright smile, and the same twinkling grey-blue eyes as her husband’s, her eyes instead were filled with fear. The woman’s hair was snow white, and she looked every bit of the mid to late seventies Jackie guessed her to be.

      Jackie approached the passenger side of the pickup truck slowly, so as not to scare the elderly woman. Once getting a full view of Gladys, Jackie was shocked. In less than a week since Jackie had seen her last, the woman looked at least another ten years older.

      “Frau Swartz? Gladys?” said Jackie in a very soft voice, trying not to scare the woman.

      Only blank, frightened eyes stared back at Jackie. “It’s me, Frau Whitman. Jackie.” The blank stare continued. She tried a soft touch to Gladys’s hand, which was resting on the window. Gladys quickly withdrew her hand, but said nothing. “We miss you, dear Gladys,” Jackie mumbled as she withdrew in defeat.

      “It’s okay, Frau Whitman, you tried. Let’s see what I brought you,” said Herb, wanting to change the subject.

      He always kept a paper bag of his best vegetables for Jackie, stashed in his truck bed. The bag was filled with tomatoes, late-summer squash, and fresh head-lettuce. As Jackie gazed in the bag, she replied, “Herr Swartz ,you grow the very best. Thank you so much.”

      Herb blushed at her compliment.

      After paying her friend for the produce, Jackie asked, “So, Herr Swartz, what will you bring me on Thursday?”

      The farmer took a thoughtful moment to reply, then said, “I have some more tomatoes, which should be ready by then, some carrots, and maybe a surprise or two. Also, maybe my Gladys will be doing better.”

      As they parted ways, Jackie wondered if their faith provided any comfort. She had been reminded since childhood that it was considered very improper to discuss religion. Since religion had been at the core of all major wars, and religious tenets could not be proven, there was no place for discussion of religion in a truly secular society. Little did she know that, for the most part, the Dutch Browns had accepted the same line of thought. Most of them followed the outward expressions of their heritage out of a sense of community rather than any deeply held conviction.

      9:55AM

      The rapping on his office door took Carl by surprise; he had been lost in his thoughts. “Please come in,” he called out. Dr. Jason Greenwood entered the room, and Carl rose to greet him.

      “I hope it’s okay that I’m early, Dr. Whitman?” inquired Jason, as they shook hands. In his early forties, Dr. Greenwood was slightly overweight, and looked a little disheveled. Carl thought the good doctor should take his own advice on diet and exercise. But, Carl also knew that what was missing in appearance was more than made up for in skill and compassion.

      “No problem, Dr. Greenwood, I appreciate your coming by. Please sit down.” As Jason slid into the chair across from him, Carl continued, “I’ve got some tough questions to ask you.”

      “Okay.” responded the younger doctor, a little hesitantly.

      “You don’t have any family, or anyone you’re close to, do you?”

      “I grew up as an orphan, raised by my grandparents, both of whom are now deceased. And, if you’re asking if I have a girlfriend, or anything like that—no, I’m married to my job.”

      “Yeah, I used to be married to my career, too” Carl said. “But we don’t have time to go into all that, and now that I’ve asked that question, I’ve got to ask you another.”

      Jason leaned forward in his chair, wondering what in the world he was going to be asked to do. Carl waited a moment, and leaned forward too.

      “I need a person I can fully trust to take care of those in the hospital when the capital is overrun.”

      Silence filled the room for what felt like hours to both men, and then he continued. “We should have a day or two’s notice before that happens, and at that time, I want to be home with my family. If at all possible, I’d like you, and a team of the hospital staff, to be here, to do whatever’s needed.”

      Jason wasn’t sure how to respond. He tried to read Dr. Whitman’s face, for some sense of what to say next, but all he could see in the man’s face was pain.

      Carl decided he should say more. “Some already know they want the Option, and we need to ensure they get it in time. Others may decide, once they know the Enemy is at the doors, that they too prefer the Option to what’s coming. The military staff is going to take care of the South wing. I’m also thinking that once the rest of us have gone home, those remaining should do things like block the doors to slow the Enemy from entering the hospital for as long as possible.”

      With his mind a jumble of conflicting thoughts, Jason finally said, “Can I have a day or two to let you know? You’re asking something I haven’t even thought of, but I know it has to be done.”

      “Of course, Doctor,” Carl managed. “I said it would be a tough question. It will need to be ASAP, we’ve