Day of Change

Lawrence Holofcener

holofcener.com

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Screws, insulation and the rest I'd have to drive to town.  Means gassing up, charging the battery.  The boys'd come along to help load.  They'd go shopping for clothes, have a soda, stock up on candy, fill a cart at the supermarket.  And . . . we'd be right back home.

            That's well put, Mr. Bennett.  But are you really afraid you'll succumb

To all our despicable ways just from one little drive to town?

            He managed a wry grin.  “We're not afraid of any such temptations, although I like candy and sodas too.  You see, we have no car.”

            No car?!  She peered about.

            “Better than that, we have no money.”

            Come on, Mr. Bennett.  You're joking surely.

            “Not a dime.”

            But how will you survive the winter?  Surely you plan to stock up with meat, fruits, vegetables, potatoes?  Or will your garden there produce it all?

And how will you keep it, freeze it-oops, sorry, I forgot.  No electricity.

            “That's right, unless we can make it ourselves.”

            You mean windmills or - solar something?

            “Or something,” he said, glancing at the stream.

            What about alcohol and tobacco?  Don't tell me you never used them?

            “Oh, at least one martini before dinner. We found some wild blackberries. Maybe we'll put up some wine.  Gave up smoking when my wife died of lung cancer four years ago.  Jake tried juniper leaves in his corn-cob pipe and almost got sick.”  Richard grinned.

            You mentioned running out of food.

            “Now this sounds peculiar, I know.  But every few days a bag of groceries is placed on our path out by the road there.”

            Oh? By whom?

            “We don't know.  Honest.”

            Haven't you ever seen them?

            “Occasionally, but they don't stop long enough for a thank you, hardly a wave.”   He looked into the camera.  “We're surely grateful, though.”

            Now isn't that cheating to take gifts? Isn't it somehow subverting your intentions?

            He blinked hard to keep his composure.  “Mizz Jordan, this isn't a game, a sport like that outfit-what's the name of that—“

            ‘Outward Bound!’” the boys called in unison.

            “We're not comparing ourselves with the Pilgrims but they brought with them all they could carry.  And the native people they called Indians helped them through their first bitter winter.”

            You said you brought things. In what?  I don't see even a wagon.

            “We had one, a nearly-new, air-conditioned, computerized, deluxe, Detroit station wagon.  We traded it for our fifteen acres.”

            The woman was nodding to a technician who was waving his hand in a circle. 

            Did you bring books-oh I see boxes of them.  What about music-portable radios?  I'm afraid we've run out of time and I haven't talked to the boys yet.  I wonder if you could come to the studio?  No, no, of course not.  I have it- 

We'll come back and tape another segment!

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