Hunting Peace

Started. Feb 25th, 2023

== Disclaimers and Notes ==

* Everyone doing anything remotely sexy is clearly noted to be over age 18.

* Names are invented, then changed, then changed back, then re-invented.

* Background in the first chapter is important, so skim if you want, but it'll come up later.

* This was written before the Third (JP, Japanese Encephalitis, C34 variant) Pandemic, and if you say that didn't happen, well, according to multiverse theory and my wristwatch, in the words of the Immortal Abiding Lebowski, "Well, ya know, that's just, like, uh, your opinion, man."

== Intro: Thread One ==

I'm an Eagle Scout.

This was (and is) a central point of pride in my life, justified in that I had to actually work at it. My dad used to say when I was growing up, "Pride should only come from work. Every other reason is racist or an accident of fate."

I had a harder time than most - my birthday was right at the end of the year, just past the cutoff, on May 1st. This meant I was always about a year older than my classmates.

In case you're not clued-in about Scouting, the day you turn 18, you're out of luck, no Eagle, it's too late. So much finalizing work is non-obvious, most scouts just are too late. It's prestigious because it takes diligent attention to detail, and planning ahead.

In absolute terms, it's about 150 hours of work spread over 3 years, a part time job. I had great help from troop leaders and got hints, so I knew to front-load the work, hard stuff first.

I had another advantage: I had a friend who was getting their Eagle at the same time, and we worked together on our projects. Amy was a senior, a year ahead, but her birthday was only a month earlier than mine, so we functionally had the same deadline.

We got our final sign-offs on February 20th. Yay!

Our projects were related but separate. They were teaching materials showing junior high students common wild edible nutritious North American plants.

Amy's project was an illustrated PDF of these plants, plus recipes that she tested by having junior high kids cook them. She then refined the directions with workarounds.

My project used the very same junior high students to collect sample plants. I desiccated (freeze-dried) 'em and poured transparent lucite epoxy to make museum-quality examples so kids could SEE in 3-D what the plants look like.

My own former junior high put my exhibit as a wall hanging in the front foyer. Since I'd wasted interminable hours there, I knew my display was a step up from the 50-year-old previous one.

The local paper even interviewed me about it. Dad and I did practice interviews to prepare, I was so nervous.

I didn't do it for accolades, that's not the point, it's for other Scouts to recognize it as cool or useful. Plus, Amy and I had fun hanging together, though it was platonic since we couldn't date. There were rules about that in our Scout troop, so we kept our distance. Our meetings and ceremonies were shared, though, for simplicity.

So, yeah, that's Thread One, of Three, that came together to make my life Very Complicated.

== Intro: Thread Two ==

Thread Two was that getting an Eagle puts you on mailing lists - LOTS of mailing lists.

Most emails were spam for 'miracle' camping products. Riiiiiight.

A second type of emails were scholarship applications. We were NOT rich - but applying wasn't barely worth it. Applying averaged about 3 hours each (cover letter, PDF form, write essay, print, mail, call, track, etc.), for $100 to $300, and a 5% chance of getting it.

Math says that's $150*0.05=$7 / 3 hours = $2/hour per application. I wasn't picky, but I wasn't stupid, either.

A third email type was for summer camp counselor jobs. Yeah. I'm not into that. I heard horror stories about being legally responsible for kids running off and doing stupid crap.

The fourth type of emails were military recruiters. Again, I'm not a great candidate. Sure, I could do it, I was competent, very smart (no-humble sorry-not-sorry), but That's a hard NO.

War zones? 16 hour days? Military pay rates?

Sure, bene's were good, sometimes (VA hospitals vs. US healthcare systems designed to bankrupt), and other perks. I liked the travel ideas, using big machinery, blowing shit up, leading people, worthy causes? Respect certainly given - to other people. Not my thing.

Besides, the way the recruiters worked just totally turned me off.

(I'd endured an interminable K-Bar Knife gift handoff at a friend's Eagle ceremony, with more drippy-manipulative hardcore propaganda 'patriotism' than a superb owl pregame show.)(Plus, it's... a knife. Sure, $130 new, but it's not even a multi-tool! I don't care if it does 'kill bears' (k-bar). The Scouting bear plan is, use a bear whistle and Run Very Very Fast.)

Whatever.

Anyway, one email caught my eye: It was from... the Government du Quebec!?

I had enough French (5 yrs, junior and senior high) to read it through. They were offering trail-guide jobs to Eagle Scouts, in the Quebec / Newfoundland Labrador border area, for the summer. After spending the summer as a guide, they would then pay for half of my college tuition, room and board, and fees - provided I attended a Canadian university.

The offer included waiving international student fees, which could be pricey.

By my numbers, that added up to about $40k! For a summer of work?!?! EGADS!

I jumped on it!

More than that, I texted my friend Amy and then called her and we talked while we went through the website's application process. They wanted Eagle Scout docs (showing our projects, we both had put that stuff on our troop's website), pics in uniform with patches, etc.

They said it would increase our chances of success if my project had something to do with the natural world. Oh, and yes, I needed to have a passport.

The thing was, I already had a passport! The previous summer our troop went to Boundary Waters Canoe Area in northern Minnesota (from Chicago, a long drive). If you cross a lake there, you're in Canada. They had a shop there where you could buy (Ontario Scouts) Canadian-flag patches and I wanted one, so I'd gotten a passport before we left.

Amy and I both applied to the Quebec job on the same night that I got the email, even filling out the parts of the form that were in French (some parts were in English and others in French, it was like they were testing out our ability to read it).

That was about March 10th.

About March 20th, we both got confirmation emails that we'd both gotten the jobs.

Yes!!!!!

Part of the deal was that they'd pay for air transport from Toronto with an e-ticket, and they listed what kinds of things to bring. It was the normal set of stuff - camping equipment like tents and sleeping bags, all that.

I read ALL the fine print. The fun parts included government non-discrimination rules allowing me to bring my spouse and up to two children along. Apparently some of the park rangers could be older people too.

Amy and I were talking when we read through their email and we both laughed at that part.

Now, I should mention again, Amy and I were not dating.

I'd gone out with a girl named Julie for a lot of Sophomore year, then Liala, a gal I ran track with later that year, but then no one my whole Junior year. Really, for most of the year, Amy and I were so into our Eagle project work that dating (each other or anyone else) would have really gotten in the way of doing the actual work.

Anyway, back to the Quebec trip. Amy had read the rules, too, and we talked about what we should put in our packs.

Amy's dad was rich, like pretty wealthy at least, and she always had the latest and best camping gear. So, when I say we talked about packing, we were sometimes on different pages.

I'd gone weekend camping with them once. Her dad had bought a whole bunch of extra kit (equipment) that was totally over-the-top for a weekend - a camp stove, super-nice sleeping mats, three super-huge tents, some bow-hunting bows (three of them, one for Amy's friend Liz who came along).

He even bought a super-nice 30-06 hunting rifle with a fancy scope and complete deer-skinning and hide-tanning kits. Like we were going to use those! I don't even think deer were in season at that point, and it was just a long-weekend trip anyway.

We had laughed (Amy and I) on that trip about shooting a rabbit with a 30-06, and how the ultra-fine rabbit-shaped mist that resulted would not mean lunch for anyone but insects.

Amy's dad sometimes pushed a cart through a nearby "Outdoors!" store and threw in piles of possibly-useful crap she might like. Sometimes he'd get an actually-handy thing, so Amy (at my insistence) quit trying to stop him. I got some cool compact Nikon binoculars out of it once when he bought the same thing he'd bought before.

So, we both packed early. The trick to packing right is to have two boxes. One, is your backpack box, all the stuff you're bringing. The other is the leave-behind box, the stuff you don't need but almost want, put there deliberately so you know you've made a decision about it.

We were packed super-early, a month ahead of time.

Some of our get-ready sessions happened at my house, some at Amy's, and some even in Amy's basement - where Amy's friend Liz had moved into.

Liz was a year ahead of Amy, so two years ahead of me school-wise. She'd lived a few doors down from Amy forever and they were tight, so after she graduated the year before, she moved into Liz's basement.

Liz's dad was an alcoholic.

Liz was nice, I knew her pretty well, we were friendly. She was going to the community college because she'd missed the standardized tests, but it worked out because she could still take linear algebra there, same as any big school.

Smarts were not Liz's problem, having a fucked-up family and financial situation was.

I think Amy or her dad even paid for Liz's tuition at the community college.

So, back to the job - a second email response included where we'd be reporting. We'd both been assigned to "Churchill Falls, NL". This translates to the Canadian province of Newfoundland Labrador, and Amy mapped it first (we were on the phone together since we got the same email at the same time and she called me since she saw it first).

On a map? We both low-whistled a 'wow'. Churchill Falls was freakin' hell-and-gone!

Still, it was a job, and it paid $500 a week (Canadian, so US$450 a week, ish), for ten weeks of summer, and I'd be back in time to start cross-country practice before my high school senior year. Then, after I graduated, I could go up there and use the scholarship they offered and save huge on college costs.

I was psyched! Amy was, too. She'd be freshly graduated; she might even stay up there and just start classes in the fall, if the timing worked. She was vague on that part.

We didn't just 'decide' to travel together (on the same plane to Toronto), we Presumed It. Travel was like camping, it's always easier if someone double-checks your nav and keeps you company.

I liked Amy a lot, and we knew we had each other's back.

The only new-equipment question for me (since I had most everything I needed) was getting a solar battery charger for my devices, and that was quickly done.

We didn't figure on having cell service (no cell towers in the woods). Satellites, they said, might send short emergency texts, but very badly and probably not at all, that far north. So much was unknown, it was a great adventure.

That said, having a phone is about entertainment as much as communication.

Since I'd be leaving right about my birthday, we celebrated it a month early. Mom and Dad got me a tablet computer and a bunch of libraries of highly-zipped texts, basically all the world's literature in under 64 GB, including textbooks since I might be bored and I could get a start on my reading for senior English lit classes.

This was frankly optimistic on their part. I didn't figure I'd be spending much time on literature, though I did grab some USB sticks and throw a shit-ton of anime series on them just in case.

Amy apparently mentioned this to her dad and got the highest-end tablet computer anyone made, loaded up with apps, as a 'getting ready gift', along with a bunch of other weird camping equipment she mostly already had, like cold weather gear (it was going to be summertime. Granted, it was Canada, but ... summertime!).

My deck of UNO cards migrated back and forth between the 'bring' and 'stays' boxes.

When school ended on April 22nd, I said goodbye to the departing seniors (friends who were leaving) and pretty much counted on never seeing them again - except for Amy.

Our emails said to arrive between May 1st and June 1st, pay was days-worked. Letting ourselves have three weeks of vacation after school ended, we got air tickets for May 10th.

That was thread two.

== Intro: Thread Three ==

Thread three was news online of a new variant of Japanese Encephalitis ("JE" or Jee) that was easily transmissible between people, had a long incubation time, and had a high but unknown fatality rate.

The news about this first showed up sometime in early February. By April 23rd the WHO had issued an advisory. I knew that anything affecting travel might kill my summer plans, so I was paying attention, but I'd seen stuff like this boil away and not go anywhere.

So that's the introduction; now onto the Events...

== Chapter: A Night to Remember ==

So, the night of my 18th birthday, May 1st, I went to bed like normal, happy there was no school (I'd had my last final) but still not needing to stay up for any reason.

My birthday get-together plans were to be the weekend after, so it was only a birthday cake my mom made, plus watching 'My Neighbor Totoro' (EPIC!) with my parents (who didn't know from anime but were super happy afterwards, they loved it).

I was awoken out of a sound sleep by banging on our front door and the doorbell ringing. I sat up with a start, and a few moments later I saw the light under my door blink and heard my dad's footsteps down the hallway.

I jumped up, pulled on sweats quickly, and headed downstairs.

It was Amy's dad, Will Brass. He'd been over lots of times for cookouts, and we'd been over to his house, too, so my parents knew each other.

Will was walking in the door. As he came in, he said, "Emergency, Dave." (my father's name)

As I got to the bottom of the stairs, my mother came down, pushing past me to turn on the front room light and kitchen light so we could see.

Behind Will was Cathy (his wife), Amy, and Liz, who shut the door behind them.

I immediately noticed they were dressed in scouting gear, both of them. Liz had borrowed one of Amy's old shirts - it had the previous year's district-council emblem patch on the shoulder.

(Everyone else just replaced the patch. Amy, of course, got a whole new shirt).

"Couldn't talk about this over the phone, Dave. WAY too important." He was anxious, worried, frightened even. They all three were.

"What's up? How can we help?"

Will's face got a deadly serious look to it. "It's uncontained, Dave. The new encephalitis thing. They're gonna lock us down again. All flights are canceled, tomorrow - like tomorrow tomorrow, not counting today, it's ... 1 am, so like, 6 pm tonight."

"What? What's going on?"

"Encephalitis. It's airborne. It's Bad. Really, really bad. I got word from a co-worker in Taiwan, there's no morgue space left. Japan is locking down, probably, India, Indonesia? I dunno. W-H-O is gonna call it Class One Pandemic... today, maybe, later."

"Why are you here then?"

Will looked at me, then back at Amy and Liz, and back at me, "Kevin, Amy and you have invites for Canada, for the summer. You should leave, NOW."

I tried to process this. I woke up pretty quickly, but still, I blinked. Implications.

Will looked at my dad. "Dave. If I think about where I want my Amy, and Liz for that matter, to spend the summer, I think it will literally save their lives to have them in a wilderness, versus in a suburban tract home in Chicagoland. Camping outdoors, even if it's uncomfortable, is ... the best thing, the only thing... the Right Thing. And, that Right Thing has to be Right Now."

Mom spoke up, her voice even, matter of fact. She was like that when something bad happened. She'd been that way when I fell and got stitches my freshman year. She said, "You mean, tonight, Will. Really, that's... now."

Will spoke to her, but included me with his darting eyes, "When I think of the person, the ONE person on this planet that I know, that can take care of my daughters... Really, Liz here is another daughter at this point - and keep them safe? In a wilderness? That One person is Kevin. Amy knows this stuff, but... two is safer than one. Three is safer than two."

Amy and Liz nodded, backing him up.

Dad looked at me, "How close are you to packed?"

I chuffed. I was already packed. "Gotta grab clean underwear, couple-a things, maybe ...ten minutes?" I was optimistic; I had my last-minute checklist so it was cheating, but nothing rushed is ever perfect.

"You willing?"

"Sure, sounds like a good plan, actually." I considered it. "How do we get there?"

Will said, "Take the cybertruck, it's packed and ready. All loaded."

Amy cut in. "Kevin, I double-checked, loading. I even threw in my 'stays' box, and some pillows and blankets, extras. There's space, you can, too."

I nodded, and hesitated, trying to organize my brain around this.

Will said to me, "Get your stuff, fast. Liz, wait here a moment, but Kevin, Amy, grab anything that isn't tied down - pillowcases for grab bags - and get it down into the truck, FAST."

We booked it up the stairs, 2 at a time. I went up and stuffed my underwear drawer and t-shirts and running shoes into the top of the backpack, the last minute stuff. My checklist was on a clipboard on my shelf, I ran it and grabbed the odds and ends lying on my nightstand and desk. Amy took that, was gone a minute, came back, and took my 'stays' box. I figured, sure, we have a truck.

By the time she came back the second time, I had a long-sleeved undershirt, uniform shirt, and was pulling on my uniform pants (faced away).

I told her, "All the chargers, in my school backpack. Tablet, cords, usb keys, everything."

Busy with my socks and boots, she just grabbed my whole school backpack (still with textbooks, I hadn't unloaded, it was overstuffed from emptying my locker for the year), and ran down, then came up fast and started putting other stuff I pointed at into my old old army-surplus way-too-big backpack. I didn't know what to grab, so I just pointed at all the books on my headboard (reading at the moment or aspirationally gonna-start-soon stuff - you know how that goes). If it wasn't tied down, it got shoved willy-nilly into the bag.

She looked at me. "Meds?"

"None, really. Melatonin? Vitamins, already in my dop kit. Toothpaste - toothbrush, all that?"

She took my backpack with her and set off into the bathroom across the hall. I pulled out my old giant cylindrical duffle and started filling it with sweats, socks, t-shirts, shorts, winter gear, everything I could. I was going from packing backpack-light to suitcase-heavy. Best case, we wouldn't need it. But, worst case? Worst case was over-wintering in a summer-weight tent with summer-weight equipment and freezing to death. What would our return date be? Winter, in Freaking Labrador!? I'd need ALL the cold weather gear, for Damn-sure!

That winter gear included some bulky stuff, but I'd always kept it in bound-compressed air-removed bundles (wrapped ultra-tight in fretcord and double-ziplocked), so it didn't really take that much space. Tricks of the trade, camping with Scouts, you can pack super-tight that way, and it's the difference between being seriously uncomfortable in a cold snap or just the elite dry and cozy of experienced campers.