10 Pound Bag Ch. 126-130

**** Chapter 126 -- Two Journeys North ****

By: Emmeran, 2 May 2021

Edited: nnpdad 3 May 2021

Published: Pat, 3 May 2021

Sunday morning, and I was scheduled to speak with the slaves over breakfast. We had arranged with the livery the night before for rental of three wagons to use through the coming week. We had an awful lot of goods to transport around. Amos, Jeb, Timmons, and I loaded our riding tack into one of the wagons first thing Sunday morning and headed out to breakfast with our new contingent of hopefully convertible slaves. I say hopefully because there were no guarantees that all of them would be able to break themselves out of a lifetime of habits or the artificial security of the world they'd always lived in. A few of these folks would be like lifers finally released from the penitentiary, only to find a world they weren't prepared to cope with. That was a lesson hard learned from the failures of the emancipation process. Too many newly freed people failed miserably and ended up back in the same basic position, only under worse circumstances.

Our noses led us to the camp, which turned out to be further outside of town than I'd supposed. They'd found a nice area, however, with a clean running brook to serve their water needs. Most of them seemed to be in good spirits, especially if you simply ignored those who appeared to be the perennial complainers. You get those who refuse to be happy, regardless of what you try. In this case, they'd already had a good supper and a warm, dry place to sleep. They also had a breakfast of hot coffee, bacon, grits, and fresh bread waiting for them. I needed them well rested when the journeys home started; it wouldn't be an easy trip no matter the route.

Quick introductions were made and I announced that it was past time for all of us to eat - women and children first, if you please. I asked Sheriff to offer a quick prayer to start the meal and he demurred. His wife offered in his place, which was fine by me. A fast grace by her and everyone started to dig in. It was very good food, definitely made by experienced hands that cared. Amos had three helpings; you'd think we'd starved that boy. I had sausage gravy with biscuits, thick slices of bacon, and fresh bread. That stuffed me almost to a food coma.

The problem was that I didn't have much of a voice left after yesterday's antics. I was hoarse and it just got worse if I raised my voice. So I briefed Timmons and Sheriff and forced them to do the talking. Well, neither one of them seemed to be much good at public speaking. Mrs. Sheriff jumped in again, with the three of us feeding her info and answers to questions. It wasn't the smoothest of solutions, but it would work while my voice recovered.

In general, we read the Rules of Rulo to them and publicly answered any questions that felt valid enough to deserve a public answer. We kept that short since it could easily go on all day. They were reassured that monthly public meetings would be held on the rules in Rulo. The same questions kept popping up, always with just a minor twist. I wondered if many people just wanted it to be known that they existed.

Traveling information caused quite a commotion. There was an overwhelming concern that we simply planned to separate the men and march them off to be miners or the like. It was a fair concern, seeing how that had been done for years and it took Amos to finally settle them down a little. He related a redacted version of his actual story and had the scars to back it up. Naturally, there were a few who didn't want to believe him.

It was time for me to speak up and I worked a few minutes trying to resurrect my voice, even doing a few vocal exercises I'd heard about or seen in the movies. 'Do-Re-Mi' from me didn't sound nearly as nice as Julie Andrews made it sound.

I was still raspy when I stood forth and said, "Any person here is welcome to leave as soon as we get out of Missouri. You are on your own if you leave, but you'll want to head Northeast and avoid settlements or campsites. You may take what you have now, but if you steal from any one of us, we will hunt you down and take our belongings back."

I had to stop a minute and cough.

"Rulo is a group effort town right now. We're busy building everyone winter houses and putting away food and fuel. No person will freeze or go hungry this winter, but we all have to work together to make that happen."

Time for another break and a gargle of water, I was starting to fade fast.

"What will happen here now is a group effort. If you don't join and give full effort, you won't be going with us. The women and children will travel to Rulo in the boats. The men will help us drive our livestock overland. The men should arrive in Rulo before the women. Everyone needs to work together over the next four days to prepare. If you don't help, you will stay behind and be sold to a new master."

With that I shut up and went to find some warm tea. I followed the rest of the conversation while sipping a cup of warm tea. One of the matronly women had taken me to her fire and was fussing over me. She even scolded me and scolded those who were casting doubts on the first hope she'd ever had. I hadn't even considered that aspect of it - most of these people had long ago given up on hopes and dreams.

She told me how she dreamed last night of a pretty little house that always smelled of warm stew and cooking good food to feed all the hungry people. I whispered to here that we definitely needed her but that the journey might be dangerous. She shushed me about danger; she had a dream now to hold on to.

How about that shit? I had given someone a hope and a dream.

**** Chapter 127 -- Hopes and Dreams ****

By: Emmeran, 2 May 2021

Edited: nnpdad 3 May 2021

Published: 4 May 2021

I suddenly felt reinvigorated...hopes and dreams. I wasn't acting the fool at all. I'm offering people something they truly wanted and wished for. Would it be wrong of me to reject the naysayers in favor of these people? My mind was thinking, 'Probably no, a few combined negative voices could destroy an entire unit.' We got rid of them fast in the Corps. Unit cohesion was more important than any skill you could teach. I decided to take action and advised my good dreamer of the same. She deserved her dream more than they deserved the right to complain. I strode off to find Sheriff and his wife and arrange a private meeting, I wanted my caregiver there with me. I wished Michelle were here, but I'd just use the advisors I had on hand.

I truly felt that this was a large risk to the township we were working to create. It was a risk I had created by inviting without interviewing and I needed to fix it. I seriously did need negative attitude and had been lucky so far to avoid it. Hell, I didn't even want them anywhere near where we were located. They had to go tomorrow. I could feel my resolve building like anytime previously I had to fire an employee; I had to steel my nerve. I was about to sell people back into slavery. Lucky for me that I already knew I was damned for all time. What's a little longer after that?

The naysayers were still dominating the conversation when I arrived at our back-of-wagon speaking post. I instructed Timmons to have the crowd separate into women and men and children, so we could assign work separately. He set to the task and slowly the people started to move. I was thankful for small favors.

While he did that, I pulled aside Amos, Sheriff and Mrs. Sheriff and made it clear that any troublemakers had to go, and go now. I banked on the fact that both of them seemed to be educated when I asked them to slowly push the small group of agitators into a working party of their own. I was clear on the fact that I would handle them myself from that point.

Thankfully, I got to focus on the business at hand. We listed off the work parties I needed over the next four days. Ladies to care for the children, ladies to cook, ladies to sort through all of the household lots for shipment. We also needed ladies to do laundry and anything else Mrs. Sheriff could think of. It was her working party and I fully expected them to meet the needs of the group.

I reminded her that they would need travel food, because cooking was in the evening only, so they needed to prepare for both the boat travelers and the land travelers. There were at least twenty grown women on hand and I trusted that they could handle it.

All of this was stated in a hoarse voice with lots of notetaking by Clara. I had been surprised when both Peter and she showed up, but I was far from unhappy.

Sheriff got the same spiel, but I needed different work parties from him. I required wagoners, laborers to load wagons and boats, firewood gatherers for the camp, and help with preparing the larger items for shipment. He had a lot of men at his disposal. Like his wife, and it was his job to make sure our journeys were successful. I asked each of them to get two trustworthy runners from the youth ranks to keep the messages flowing.

Finally, and most reluctantly, I pointed out that every man had to be able to ride and it was up to him to arrange that. He was to send me a runner with tack requirements.

Hell, that was more than enough to put everyone in motion, so I cut them loose with those instructions. I had a brief word with Timmons before he left and then went back to center stage to watch what happened. My caregiver was still with us and I told her that I would need her once it was time for me to talk more. I asked her name and she smiled and just said, "Call me 'Aunty,' everyone else does." Well, I should have expected as much, so I simply offered her a smile and asked her to accompany me to town for a refreshing drink before I had my dinner meeting.

We headed back to the gathering, where I stopped and pulled the Sheriffs off to the side. "I still don't know your names. It would help if I knew what to call you."

Hell, that wasn't a lot to ask but boy did I get a return in spades. They looked at each other and Sheriff said plainly, "I guess if need something you can call me 'Wayne.'"

"Wayne?" I asked, taken aback.

"Yup, as in Wayne Gretzky, the consummate winner. Since I get to choose." Mrs. Sheriff smacked him and he just grinned. "Maybe like in 'John Wayne,' or maybe Wyatt like 'Wyatt Earp.'"

I looked at the sky and simply said, "What. The. Fuck?" Their laughter was fun to hear and my hopes rose even further. We didn't have time to push it further but we'd have a private meeting tonight in the family room at Byrnes after dinner. It was stupid, but they would have to come in by the back door until we got the fuck out of Missouri.

I had Amos drive Aunty back to town on the wagon while Jeb and I rode alongside. My mind was upside-down once again. I had never expected this to happen, but the laws of Chaos and the laws of Random should have prepared me for the extreme outside chance. But really, from the era of time where Gretzky and John Wayne were a thing?

The vastness of those laws could suck you in to forever, though. The odds were beyond the definition of my simple human mind so I tried to turn my focus to the here and now. I had a lot going on and couldn't afford to drop the ball.

We went to Byrne's and took Aunty to the family room. We needed to have another conversation about what I had bought into.

Wayne Gretzky indeed. Maybe I'd call him Urkel.

**** Chapter 128 -- Aunty and the Shoemakers ****

By: Emmeran, 3 May 2021

Edited: Nnpdad, 5 May 2021

Published: 5 May 10, 2021

A peaceful, stoic lifestyle might be somewhere in my future but that somewhere definitely wasn't here and now. Chaos was in charge and I was forced to dance to his tune whether I liked it or not, though I still got to choose a step here and there. I had a little time before dinner and I needed to send a few letters, which I dictated to Clara. Aunty busied herself with thread and needle while Clara and I worked away. Peter was sent off to look for ideas down at the docks. I hoped he might stumble across something we could build while he was poking around. It took me a while to explain to him that I was paying for him to go out and just be curious about anything he came across that looked interesting.

After exhausting my miniscule knowledge of the inventor's trade, we got down to writing the letters. Our first missive was to the US Postmaster General, offering to set up a Post Office in Rulo. I also offered to run delivery services up and down our section of the river. I claimed to have a small steam-powered boat that would perform in almost all weather, though I did mention allowances for winter weather. I didn't want to tempt the weather gods too much and get people killed.

The second missive was to the Justin Morgan family in Vermont, inquiring about purchasing, or getting leads on purchasing, breeding stock. With that, dinner time was fast approaching. Clara and I simply interviewed, or, more realistically, were interviewed by, Aunty until the Schumachers showed up.

The Schumachers brought a lot of challenges to my situation and they also brought a lot of people to my meeting. But I had prepared challenges for them, also. I needed to measure them before I decided, particularly if a larger group showed up. Which did. Obviously, Aunty was part of the challenge. She knew what was being done and agreed to act as my "official" advisor during the meeting. I needed a close reading on their behavior around women and negroes. Four couples showed up. There was one young single man; I suspected he was a Rabbi.

Basic introductions were made all around and Mrs. Byrne brought out the new, custom-made, all pork menus. I wanted to throw them straight into the fire before they had time to settle themselves. We jumped into ordering and started with Clara. She joyfully ordered the pomme frittes with sausage gravy and cheese. My turn to be surprised. Mrs. Byrne had wasted no time experimenting with the recipe; that was good news in my opinion.

I was still marveling at the possibilities when I realized the next person due to order was the young Rabbi. He simply sighed in acceptance and asked if a vegetable stew was possibly available. If not, he'd just have tea. It went the same way all of the way around the table. The three us held discipline and ordered pomme frittes.

We simply left that as it was for the moment and Mrs. Bryne went to fry up six orders of standard fries as we moved on to the next stage. Aunty spoke next. She had that clear, strong grandma voice and she delivered the spiel I had asked of her. She spoke directly to the women and asked them pointed questions about what each woman and her family had to offer us. Aunty had laughed for almost five minutes when I explained what I wanted her to do. I was sure Michelle would have a good laugh also. I had no fucking clue what the Pawnee would think, but the women did normally run all things family-related.

The session actually went swimmingly well. They were obviously of the liberal sort and later turned out to have many books by some of the great Jewish philosophers and thinkers. The sticking point was the Rabbi, who didn't have a woman to speak for him. I was searching my mind for a quick solution when Aunty stepped up her game.

"I will speak with him alone, Zach. Behave yourself, and please offer the guests some proper food." Shit howdy, I had hired my own grandmother.

"Yes, ma'am," Was my automatic reply.

Mrs. Byrne brought in our pommes frittes. They had been cooked in some vegetable oil - a rare thing - and she was happy about how they turned out. She also had proper menus. She explained that she had spoken with their Rabbi's wife and insured the menu was fully Kosher. The fries were part of the Kosher offerings. They were allowed to order freely from this second menu. It had been signed by their Rabbi, which was the best we could do out here on the frontier. His wife was actually assisting with the cooking tonight. I did my best to entertain while we waited for Aunty and the Rabbi. I told them more about Rulo and passed around the Rules. Those were read and then placed at the Rabbi's dinner setting.

The questions were a bit different this time. As businessmen, they were sharp operators and land division was a big deal. I had the feeling they had a lawyer amongst them and finally called on them to state their professions. Shoemaker, Tailor, Banker, Lawyer - all school trained and licensed in their home countries. Well, that had them all feeling proud and full of themselves. However, I had a trump to play. Before I could do it, I was preempted by the return of Aunty and the Rabbi. We allowed the Rabbi to order from the actual menu and then Aunty took back the stage.

"I'll speak for this man, who doesn't have a woman to care for his house. I will care for his house and he will provide for and protect me." It was a bold, affirmative statement directed at everyone, but she was looking at me.

"That is acceptable." I just left it at that for a moment and ordered a beer. I asked the Rabbi to detail his experience. He related his schooling and training, which had basically been his entire life since his bar mitzvah. Aunty had seemed to change his attitude a bit.

I made some quick, temporary decisions to meet the immediate need. I said town dwellers would receive a business lot with building, a housing lot with land, and a tradeable share of a forestry section to harvest fuel. Basically a house, a business on main street, and a bunch of trees to harvest or trade.

I did emphasize that tree harvesting would be under strict guidelines. I needed to protect these ancient hardwoods as long as I could. I noted to Clara that we needed to contact a few Universities worldwide to inquire about forestry.

I had my beer and lit my cigarette. Dinner would be delivered soon. Then I asked the most important question.

"Who here is an experienced warrior?"

**** Chapter 129 -- Banker Warriors and the Key to Wealth ****

By: Emmeran, 4 May 2021

Edited: nnpdad 6 May 2021

Published:6 May 2021

"What I mean is simple. Who can ride and fight? Who can shoot at a man, and who has killed a man?" I love direct topics of conversation.

The table was silent. Only Brin stirred on his makeshift bed in the corner of the room. I sincerely hoped he didn't decided to chime in on the conversation at this point. Brin did stay silent, as did everyone else. I worked on it from there.

"Living on the frontier is a dangerous life. So is traveling on the frontier. Once we leave this town, we rely only upon ourselves to protect ourselves. Man, woman and child." I paused to look at all of their faces, including the women.

I continued assertively, "As your people well know, enemies give no quarter. We must all be on the alert. Everyone must be ready, willing, and alert. I predict that bad things await your kind in Europe. I think America will become a refuge and I propose to provide one to you. We will be adding an additional set of new enemies if we bring you into our world."

"To survive, though, we must be a community - a complete and whole community, without exception and regardless of race, religion, or background. We absolutely cannot have a sub-community focusing on its members first. If you want to join us, we will need you to keep that part of your world specifically to sabbath-related activities and completely outside of commercial or other areas." Damn, that was a major statement and definitely could have been worded better. I mentally cursed myself for having fun at the auction and not truly being prepared for this meeting.

This last part I had thought about, though, "We live in a territory that is not yet part of the United States. It will get there one day and, with your help, we will have a large say in shaping that state."