The Choccolocco Valley: Survival Apocalypse, #2

In memory of early Alabama’s finest Creek War historian, the late Albert J. Pickett. (1810-1858)

—In the end some of what went around stayed around.

Cast of Players

Jedidiah Reuel – A man of humble beginnings who grows into a great leader.

Honor Parham – A man of the Choccolocco Valley

Billy Ray Rayburn – A trader of the Choccolocco Valley

Robert Columbus RC Pyle – Billy Rayburn’s handy man

Moses S. Tinney – Minister of Cecil’s Bend Christian Church

Crip Russell – Blacksmith and metal working genius of the Choccolocco Valley

The Plunketts – A family of the Choccolocco Valley

Chapter One

Year 139... We'll see, we'll see, Billy Rayburn said to the youngsters crowded around him in the compact one room schoolhouse, patting the back of his little great granddaughter sitting on his knee.

It was April in the Choccolocco Valley and the weather had turned briefly, but significantly cooler as April days sometimes do in the Deep South.

Meria, his daughter, and the Choccolocco Valley school teacher, shooed the students to their seats.

Arrayed before him were perhaps 30 pupils ages ranging from eight to eighteen taking their seats at their rough hewn desks. Meria sat behind him at hers, complete with a real blackboard he had picked up from a trader out of the Birmingham settlement.

Rayburn was 82 years old and feeling every winter. One of you children toss another stick onto the fire, he said to the group, regretting it almost instantly, as half the boys and a couple of tom girls, some of them his grandchildren, jumped up at the same time.

Class, sit! commanded Meria.

Everyone sat, if reluctantly. She called to the largest of the students, the one closest to the door. Billy Junior, go get two big pieces of coal.

Rayburn was impressed. Where did you get coal, Meria?

Meria smiled with pride. Hugh got it from upriver traders on the Coosa, father. We donated a quarter ton to the school this past fall.

Rayburn sniffed, I suppose you could have told me about it. Probably could have sold all I could get. I thought I taught you better than that.

I'm the teacher now daddy, she said chidingly. Besides, that's all there was. Hugh said maybe the traders he got it from would start making a regular run, but really, he was just lucky to be on the water running his catfish lines when they passed.

The door opened, admitting a chill gust, and Billy, holding two large chunks of black coal gingerly tossed the rocks into the open face of the stove made from sheet aluminum, set away from the brick backstop in the back corner of the room. This sent a shower of sparks up the small brick chimney.

Lucky find, that aluminum, commented Billy Rayburn.

Go outside and wipe your hands now, Billy Junior, said Meria.

Once Billy was back and seated again, Meria said, Class, Mr. Rayburn has graciously accepted my invitation to come and talk to you about the history of our town and especially about Jedidiah Reuel.

One of the sweet faced pre teen girls in the front row raised her hand and said excitedly, Daddy Ray, please tell us about how you and Mr. Parham fought with one another. Then very seriously she added, You promised!

How many times you heard this story, honey? asked Rayburn smiling."

Long as I can remember, said the girl.

"Have I been coming round here that long," he asked of Meria with a wink.

Well now, he said to the class, shifting around in his chair, hands in front of him, folded on his legs, Just let me recollect my thoughts for a speck. He waited nearly a full minute, letting the anticipation build in the children.

Wall now as I remember it began with a big ol' flood. But to understand the whole picture you really have to start before that.

Way back yonder, a long time before the white man came along, this whole area was settled by Indian people who called themselves Creeks, and before them other Indians, and before them still others. We don't know what they called theyselves, but sometimes when we are turning the earth to get ready to plant we find their sign. Anyone know what that is?

Is it arrowheads? asked the pretty girl.

Right you are, said Rayburn continuing. Wall, by and by the white man moved in and somewhere near to three centuries ago he replaced the Indian. For a time there was quite a bit of life on this ol creek run, but then civilization took over and before you knowed it this whole place just up and went back to the wild again.

About the only use the creek got for a long time was as a place to dump things folks didn't want any more. Even after all these years if you'll look along the bank after a big rain you can still occasionally find an old piece of a rubber vehicle, as they called ‘em, a tar or maybe a drinking bottle. Any one of you children ever go looking for bottles? Again, the hands went up.

That's very good said Rayburn smiling. You'll larn a little something about the past that way, and in your own back yards too. And don’t ferget I give top prices for your bottles.

Meria, who was behind him at her desk, keeping watch over the flock interjected, We have a field trip to the mine at the old landfill next month as a treat for the children before we excuse them for the summer.

Rayburn’s old eyes lit up. I have always thought there's a great many things of interest there, besides the good plunder. Jes don't wait ‘til it gets too hot. He pinched his nose with his fingers which caused laughter.

A hand shot up. It was one of the Smith children, overalls and shoeless, but well washed. Mr. Rayburn, how old was you when Mr. Reuel came?

Rayburn chuckled, I wasn't a bit old at the time. Near ‘bouts twenty two, so they tell me.

Meria cleared her throat, If I might father... Class, Mr. Rayburn was born in the year sixty-seven, and as we have discussed, the war most likely started in four BA (Before Apocalypse). But what we want to hear about today is a firsthand history of the valley.

And about Jedidiah? asked the pretty girl.

He was an awful lot like you and me, but not nearly as pretty as either one of us, laughed Rayburn.

Noticing the look of consternation on the young girl's face, he added, "When I first met him he wasn’t so much of a legend. More like a half drowned little puppy. And like all puppies, you never know what they are going to grow into...

OK, said Rayburn smiling, yet reminding himself to clean up the details for the children. It all began with the creek running backwards....

Chapter Two

Year 89... Billy Rayburn had been slow paddling his wide, shallow draft flat bottom boat back up Choccolocco Creek for the last few minutes, having given up on any more river traffic on this slow afternoon. He had been camped at the mouth of the creek for the last three days and had traded for about as much goods as he cared to paddle and pole back to the Choccolocco Valley.

He counted himself lucky for the water was pleasantly high, and not running so fast as to give a problem with his heavily laden platform. All in all a good afternoon to travel. He expected to be back home in his small trading post before midnight.

Curiously, he looked up from his efforts as a slight breeze stirred the moss hanging down from the gnarled tree limbs overhanging the water. Something didn’t feel right.

That’s when he felt the bubbling beneath his feet in his little barq. He had heard someone refer to as such one time and the name stuck with him.

From behind came a sound not unlike an unexpected sharp wind blowing through spring leaves. Turning, he saw no motion in the limbs, but what he did see frightened him very badly. Oncoming was a swell of muddy water and debris rolling up the creek headed straight for him, spreading out across the virgin oak and pine creek bottoms to either side.

Turning back to the front again something primal clicked in his consciousness and he knew instinctively that if he didn’t gain speed and ride the roiling wave, it would swamp his little boat and drag him under. This he did not intend to happen for death was not on his plate today. So pull he did with every fiber of his muscled arms.

Even as he felt the gentle push and lift of the wave behind him, he knew he would be just fine if he could keep the boat in the creek channel and neither run aground nor get swept overboard by a stray limb. As his heart quickened with the panic and exertion he felt a thrill. The old barq had never been this swift! She fairly flew along on the crest of the flood!

However, in a moment the boat slowed as the muddy water raced in front of the prow to vanish mere yards ahead to splash against the bank and over it in a bend of the creek.

Rayburn slowed his strokes, using his paddle more as a rudder to stay in the middle of the creek, near as he could tell. Around him he could see the water continuing to creep up the hollows and rise against the trunks of the ancient trees.

He reached up to scratch his hatless head, sharp barbs of medium length scraggly hair stinging his eyes. Though the day had been pleasant he noticed sweat dripping onto his black bearded face, and his back felt as if he had hunkered down in an open field during a shower. Even so, he grinned, feeling fortunate to witness such a deluge and live to tell about it. God only knows, he thought, where the flood would end. He could not imagine that it would reach anywhere near his store, many miles on up ahead. That would mean it was a general flood like back in the Noah days. Glancing up he did not see even a wisp of cloud in the sky, and straining, all he could hear was the hissing of the water and an occasional crack of a limb up ahead.

Just out of the current an arm thick dogwood tree, formerly well off the creek, lazily swam toward the boat to say hello. He urged the boat to side it and made fast with his twined hide tie rope.

The front of the boat swung around so that the aft portion where he was faced the river, which he knew was not far away. Curious as he was about what was going on back there, he didn’t relish fighting the backwards current to go have a look. He’d just have to see it on his next trip. No doubt, if it was this bad a mile up creek, the landscape of the mighty Coosa would look some different now.

A new thought came to him, and that was if he wasn’t careful he would get caught short of the creek if and when the water decided to recede. He had no idea what could have caused such a thing.. Perhaps a tornado or hurricane upriver, but more likely a dam blowout.

He had seen, on this very river more than once, the results of a crumbled water dam or water burst upriver. Of course, he had not been part of it before. He had only come along later to marvel at the changes in the landscape after a big flood.

Imagining the chaos on the river he surmised that if the flood had not taken out the dam up at the Ohatchee settlement with it, then surely it was just a matter of time. Folks who had seen it said it was leaking badly. Perhaps it was even the cause. Time would tell.

The water was still flowing up the creek at a good horse trot, carrying with it every manner of dangerous root and tree. He stood warily watching, paddle in hand to urge anything larger than a tree branch around his vessel.

That’s when he saw the metal boat in mid current in the distance. In slow motion he watched as it drew near and then passed him.

Indecision tore at him for a moment only. He could use that boat! Rare indeed was a creek worthy metal boat. Practically indestructible, they came from a time before his imagination, and could not be bought at any price he was willing to pay. They were infinitely better for fast creek runs than the log affairs of modern times. What’s more, you could port them when necessary.

Greed was full upon him as he slipped the knot and cast off into the turbulent chocolate brown current mere feet away and with his paddle sought to overtake the boat which had disappeared around the bend.

Rounding the curve in the creek he saw that as if by magic the boat had dislodged itself from the current and had hung up on something, bumping on the base of a large oak tree thirty yards off the channel in the hardwood bottom. Unconsciously he licked his lips. Just twelve feet long. Perfect for his needs!

Shooting out of the current and poling now with his paddle he pushed against the muddy ooze of the forest floor until he reached the boat at the base of a hollow which climbed upwards and away out of sight.

Lucky he was, he thought, that the creek banks on this end of the system were comparatively barren of brush, he had no trouble reaching the boat which was all but grounded, wiggling in the rising water.

To his surprise, and no little consternation when he came alongside he saw a young stocky built boy lying in the bottom of the boat curled tightly in a fetal position.

Glancing to the four points of the compass to make double sure