Cold Oven
January 2026
Sacramento, California
011826 7am
Hey Sis, power is out, can’t email, so I’m writing you in my journal: Nice day, haze thicker than usual (probably more wood fires) sun melting the frost early. Sometime during last night, the power went off and hasn’t come on yet. Biked around hood and talked with few old customers outside in nice weather; so many gone now. People guess how long before juice comes back on. One thought it would not, ever; another said its a conspiracy to underpopulate before eco-lapse. Whadaya think, depression and paranoia.
Cold oven. Baker’s holiday - can’t work today. I’m writing this by candle, one of Fiela’s vanilla. Before today I only had time to sit and write after the morning baking was done; odd to think a cold oven might stay cold, never come on again, how odd to think that.
Until power comes back, butter and eggs are in basement under a casement window where a thermometer reads 48 degrees. My bicycle is no longer in view of display windows, I moved it to storeroom out of sight. Frank offered butcher paper to cover the storefront, but I thought, better if people see in and see there’s nothing of value inside the bakery. People would imagine the butcher paper hides valuables. Big OUT OF BUSINESS signs keep people from the door. Thankfully, a dozen faithful customers still paid for bread with dried meats and fruit.
Now I’m glad I moved out of apartment in December, now I only worry about this one location, and don’t you think apartments and homes probably more likely targets for thieves than storefronts with Out Of Business signs for last two weeks.
Should come and join you, Sis. People laughed when I’d tell them my sister is off the grid. Didn’t understand the inconveniences of 12 volt lights and a car CD/radio for music and news. “Why bother?” they’d ask. “Does she have a refrig? How can she vacuum?” If they thought about you now, I bet they wouldn’t be laughing, not at all..
011926 11pm
Frank and Fiela came by this morning, plan to leave soon for Ananda Annex. They’ve been good customers and friends. Asked if I wanted to go with, encouraged me to go, said the Annex could use a skilled baker. I admit a commune is sounding safer than being here each night alone and in the dark. I went to their house for lunch. Frank is a self-taught butcher now who experiments with smoked and seasoned dried meats. We had a tasty lunch of potatoes, fresh beans, and jerky.
Frank walked me home before dark. Walked by Mr. McGee’s house (one peach beehive a week) and a new family is there, so another of my customers gone. Frank is kind of creepy about future stuff, thinks the worst, and has annoying male habit of acting like he knows best what to do. “If you don’t go to the Annex, you really need a gun,” “The power down is not going to change, but people will, people will take whatever they want with violence.” I don’t agree. I think people mostly will work together to make things better, even if the power stays off.
But even Fiela so all into aroma therapy (odor auras she calls it) is losing her calm smooth center. She wanted to leave last night and Frank had to talk her down from the edge, so to speak, reminding her how arriving at the Annex in the dark and empty-handed is not smart. Frank claims disciples will protect the commune from desperate souls who show up with nothing but fear, but will welcome an ex-disciple who returns with skills and provisions. . . “enough to share with the whole class,” he said quoting my and everyone’s elementary teacher.
Fiela didn’t stop badgering me to come along, and she was packing boxes when I left.
012126 midnight
Sis, I wish you were here to talk to and to hug. I need a hug. Frank and Fiela are leaving in the morning, but I don’t know if I can. I’ve got to sort out feelings. I packed clothes and food into boxes and this afternoon F and F collected my boxes and then I went along to their house for dinner. They showed me the garage and all the boxes going to the Annex. I don’t know if it can all fit in their van, but Frank sounded positive . . . “just like a Chinese puzzle.”
Okay, so the weird thing, I don’t know what to make of this, in the garage I saw diagrams on the wall above his butcher table, diagrams of cuts of meat, line drawings of a cow, sheep, goat, pig, deer, and chicken, but over the goat, a red-ink line showed the profile of a human with the arrows indicating the rump roast, the ribs, the liver, the shank. I swear to you, sis, it was a human torso and thighs. I got so cold and I couldn’t think, I just knew I had to leave. I grabbed my coat and Fiela called to me, but I couldn’t look back, I couldn’t stop, I had to get away. I think about our dinner and Frank explaining the dried meat was an experiment with particular spices to tenderize and flavor tough muscle fibers. He wasn’t satisfied with the texture, but all agreed the taste was splendid. Could it be? I’d always heard that human flesh was tough and stringy (I don’t know who would know this, assumed this fact evident to any medical student dissecting a corpse), now can’t help but wonder if F and F are into “Waste Not, Want Not” the survivalist euphemism for cannibalism.
012226 dinner
So, last night I stayed in the bakery and at sunrise left on my bike with the last of my stuff in my backpack. Cold oven and this baker is out of a job. I rode to Fiela’s and helped load the last of the stuff in the van. No concerns today, I mean really, F and F are purple people eaters? Really?
On the drive to Nevada City, we realized the van carried a butcher, a baker, and a candle(stick) maker! We sang songs and laughed until we stopped at the Annex.
The place used to be a welcoming, nature loving, peace and love kind of commune. Now the commune is barricaded behind a tall wood fence - reminded me of your 3rd grade popsicle stick old west fort, but this fence and gate is made of limbs and sticks (no big straight logs left in the foothills). The guard (a bald St. Peter with tats and assault rifle) did not laugh or sing or welcome us. Interrogation: Who are you? Why are you here? Why should you be allowed in? Butcher and baker with skills and provisions? What you got?
Frank unwrapped samples of jerky, and questions became less edgy: You the butcher? How many pounds? Who else? Fiela Meade? Ex disciple? Prodigal or alien? The baker? Thistle? A friend, eh? How many pounds of flour? What else?
The guard verified by radio Fiela was not an UX (an unwelcome ex-disciple) and allowed F and F but denied me. Several workers came through the gate with dollies and began unloading the van. Fiela demanded the guard talk to Phoenix, the guru. A “deputy” of Phoenix came to the gate, but still denied me, said I should take the van. I complained that the flour, nuts and dried fruits in boxes already taken away were mine, but he said my choice was to take the van and my backpack or leave the van and carry my boxes as far as I could before being robbed.
I had no doubt robbers would be sent after me by that butthole.
So here I am, along the American River eating a countrywalker salad of miner’s lettuce. Just saw a red fox. Can hardly wait to see you, Sis. I drove west out of the foothills at sunset and the entire Sacramento valley, as far as I could see, had no lights so wonder about your town, power down there, too? Wonder if you are home or with Jinegan and his group. Tomorrow I go to Fs garage and put my bike in the van and then heading your way! See ya soon!
January 25, 2026
Yreka, California
(Thistle parks in Helen’s driveway, she hears the front door open as she steps out of the van, turns and sees a strange man who speaks first.)
Gerald Who are you?
Thistle Wh-?! I’m Alice in a rabbit hole. WHO the FUCK are YOU? Where’s HELEN?
Helen Who is it, Gerald? THISTLE! Oh, it’s so good to see you!
(Thistle looks from Helen to Gerald and perceives no emotional connection, then walks by Gerald.)
Thistle I have to use the toilet, come with me. (She grabs her sister’s hand, and pulls.) Close the door! WHO is that GUY, Sis?
Helen That’s Gerald.
Thistle You had to take in a roommate or what?
Helen He used to live in the house you can see from the road, on the clear cut hilltop?
Thistle Huge orange box on the hill? I saw it. Why’s he here? That mansion is big enough for God’s family.
Helen A mansion useless without power. He never thought about preparing for a prolonged power down. The well has an electric pump, needed power for everything, flush the toilet even. No matter how many square feet in a mansion, it’s useless in the dark years.
Thistle Dark what?
Helen Dark years - what Jinegan calls the end times, the ecollapse, the social drain, the running on empty.
Thistle Okaaaay, so, he’s living here?
Helen He and his wife and boy.
Thistle What?!
Helen Ssshh, I think I just heard her and Berol return from a walk.
Thistle The whole family moved in?
Helen What could I say? And a few days ago, Gerald turned away a second family of five, who demanded we share our house and food; so, he has been a help, in that way. But they are so needy. He just has to use his fancy silver electric shaver twice a day. She has to blow dry her hair each morning, and junior needs to charge his battery toys. Rich people are so needy.
Thistle Opulence is the definition of needy.
Helen I guess so. It’s like, well, they don’t understand physics; the generator has to run for her hair dryer and his electric razor. We run out of fuel and in the silence of long whiskers and frizzy hair, I fear this nice pampered family will go berserk on me.
Thistle On you? On us, us, I’m here now. We can be way crazier than any nice berserk family. We have those acid flashbacks to draw on, remember when I was eating a chicken drumstick and you thought I had cooked the neighbor’s dog? Oh, the pampered family may be physics-challenged but they’ve not been challenged by anything as weird as the windowpane sisters. You just let me know when you want those squatters out, I’ll scare the pants off ‘em.
Helen Later c’mon, I’ll introduce you. Megan, this is Thistle. Thistle has-
Megan So this is your Sacramento sister?
Helen Yes.
Megan The baker, who made a career out of peach beehives and cottage pudding? I hope you brought some with you?
Thistle No, but I can make apricot beehivettes. You have dried apricots, sis?
Helen Yes.
Megan Who came with you, Thistle?
Thistle No one. Why?
Megan Who’s Frank of Frank’s Soul Fillets and Cured Meats?
Thistle When he and his wife entered the Ananda Annex, they gave me the van.
Helen And here’s Berol; this is my sister, Thistle.
Thistle Hi Barrel.
Berol Hi. You staying?
Thistle Yes -
Berol Great, I suppose I’ll have to sleep on the fucking couch now.
Thistle Probably and alone, I’m not that easy.
Berol What? Eeeeyooo! Outta here.
Helen Don’t slam - the door!
Thistle Sis! Why? Why are you putting up-
Helen Megan, we’re going up to the falls. I’ll show Thistle the water line and how to clean the intake filter. Don’t let the door slam.
Thistle Oh, Sis I don’t know about that boy. What a pie-hole! Barrel, ha, tub o’ lard
Berol Whaddidyasay?
Helen Thistle was just telling me how she uses lard to make pie dough.
Berol Bullshit, I’m gonna tell my dad.
Helen Listen, Berol, Thistle knows we have to make room in our hearts and homes for eachother, but this is all new to her. Remember how you cried for a whole day when you left your nice house on the hill?
Berol Tell the fucking world why don’t you!
Helen Just sayin’ Thistle needs time to adjust.
Berol Fuck off!
Thistle Often. Soften.
Berol What?
Thistle Be a dick too often, and the curse softens, not shocking anymore.
Berol Beat it!
Thistle That’ll make it soft too.
Berol Leave me alone, beeyatch.
Gerald STOP RIGHT THERE.
Helen (That’s Gerald’s voice from down by the drive.)
Thistle (I hoped he was yelling at his spawn from hell.)
Gerald TELLING YOU, GET OFF MY LAND.
Male 1 Not friendly there, bub.
Male 2 We’re just hungry. We’ll work for a dinner. You probably have some work we could help you with, don’t you? Many hands make small work, and of course, it’s better to give than receive. Think this nice man knows what I mean?
Male 1 Oh yeah, he’s gonna figure it out here soon enough, being as there’s the two of us and only the one of him.
Berol GIVE THEM A JOB. WASTE NOT, WANT NOT!
Male 2 Do you see him?
Male 1 (Shit!) No. So listen, don’t get riled up now. We can see you don’t have any need for strong men and there’s plenty of homes that do need a man, so we’ll go on now.
Gerald Said you were hungry, stay for dinner. Call your friend back.
Male 1 Hungry? No. Hungry for work, he meant. No, we don’t want to trouble you. Bye now.
(During several minutes only the sound of birds and the departing strangers footfalls could be heard by the residents of Helen’s off the grid home as they gathered at the top of the gravel drive.)
Thistle Think they’ll come back?
Gerald No, they don’t want to be our dinner. Where’s my boy? Berol, you’re one clever young man. How did you make your voice so loud?
Berol I found the fuel funnel in the battery shed and used it through the open window like a megaphone.
Helen Gerald, do you think they’ll be back?
Gerald Not as long as they think we’ll strip ‘em, spit ‘em, baste ‘em, and taste ‘em, right son?
Berol Fuck no!
Helen Okay, thanks, we’re going up to the falls. I’ll show Thistle the water line and how to clean the intake filter. Won’t be long.
Gerald About an hour?
Helen Maybe two.
Gerald Well, we’ll expect dinner at six as usual.
Helen No problem, see ya. See ya, Berol, you have some surprises in you, my man.
Berol I’m not your fucking man.
Thistle I’ll say-
Berol What?
Thistle Let’s go, Sis. How long of a walk is it to the falls, I don’t remember.
Helen Oh, it’s a climb, about-
Thistle (whispered) Let me jabber until we’re out of hearing, Hel. (aloud) I like the sound of the water. Beautiful trees along the creek, look up ahead, look back, okay. GEEZ, Sis, how do you sleep at night?
Helen I don’t. I’m so glad you’re here, Thistle. What am I going to do?
Thistle We- we are going to kick those fucks out of your home! We are going to have to be creative. That foul little boy is not that little, and he understands the idea of eating people, so I figure, you and I, we are just two entrees in the eyes of that little monster and he seems to control those parents. I haven’t heard either challenge him.
Helen He does. He bullies them both.
Thistle Let’s see. Guns? Did the nice family bring nice guns with them?
Helen No, Jinegan and the other growers have guns. Gerald worked in some high tech job. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have any guns with him. I didn’t want any in my house, but Jinegan tried to make me take one for my protection, he said some people would envy my being off the grid during a long power down. But I refused. So I don’t have guns but I have drugs. Jinegan concocted some “lights-out” capsules for me, claimed they would decapitate Paul Bunyon and his ox.
Thistle Speaking of, how is that pothead doing?
Helen Better than most of us. He has his own hydropower. He didn’t smoke all the profits from his grow; he has made a tranquil xanadu in his valley. He and Patty are on a grid of their own and have a devoted community living with them. Jinegan looks after all of us who worked for him. Weed has kept us employed, it replaced the timber industry, and we have the highest per capita income outside the major metro areas.
Thistle How long did you work for him?
Helen Oh, since the 1990s.
Thistle Geez, you weren’t invited to paradise?
Helen Oh yeah, I could’ve gone, but I didn’t want to leave my home. I like my cabin. I wish it could be mine again. Well, so here’s the water line, we’ll follow it up to the intake pool, and I’ll show you the filter that needs cleaning whenever the pressure drops.
(After returning, Helen goes in to prepare dinner; Thistle joins Berol and Gerald by the driveway.)
Thistle Barrel, do you know how to ride a bike?
Berol Yeah.
Thistle Here, in the van - see, this is my bike. Help me lift it out.
Berol What’s that?
Thistle A pinwheel! My friend made me that. It spins if you ride fast enough.
Berol I want to ride it.
Thistle Ask your dad if you can.
Berol DAD? DAD!
Gerald You don’t need to yell.
Berol I’m going for a ride.
Gerald Wait. It’s not safe, Berol.
Berol I’ll be okay!
Gerald You stay on the county road? Once you are out of the trees, I’ll be able to see you from up here and I’ll feel better if I can see you, even if you are far away.
Berol Okay!
Thistle Let’s check the tire pressure.
Berol What?
Thistle Tire pressure. Okay, here’s the gauge. Pay attention, you need to learn this. Take the cap off the stem, press and hold like this, read the number.
Berol Fifty-five.
Thistle Good! Now, you do the front tire. See, there, that’s a bit low. Here’s the pump. Attach the end like this. Okay, pump and see the gauge reads the tire pressure. Good. Disconnect the pump, replace, the cap, okay, you’re good to go.
Berol See ya!
Gerald Don’t be gone long. Helen’s getting dinner ready!
Thistle Bye!
(For a minute only the sound of birds and the departing bicycle wheels on gravel could be heard.)
Thistle Okay, Gerald, we’ve got to talk. Did you know Helen’s been a vegetarian a long time? But since she has been cooking for you, she’s been tasting, and LIKING meat again.
Gerald So what’s the problem if she likes eating meat again?
Thistle She’s a little upset. She wants me to dry and cure Barrel.
Gerald WHAT!
Thistle See, Frank taught me how to dry and cure all kinds of meat - used to be a sore spot between Helen and I, but now-
Gerald STOP IT! What the fuck?
Thistle Shhhh, I don’t want Helen to hear us. She won’t like that I’m warning you. She doesn’t agree with me about that. See, I only waste not want not strangers, but Helen is new to this, she doesn’t have my scruples, and really, when you think about it, how often do strangers come along out here? I had hoped those two drifters would have stayed for air-quote dinner, and I was pissed when Barrel yelled, “Waste not, want not,” but he is just a kid and that’s just it. He’s just a kid, plump and pudgy and soft and succulent, but still, I don’t like to think about butchering and curing Barrel, but Helen is pissed about him and his foul mouth, besides the cupboards are getting bare and her winter garden is just about picked clean, so I understand-
Gerald I can’t believe this. You’re fucking insane.
Helen Thistle, get in here and fix the beehives!
Thistle Be right there, Sis. I’m insane, am I? I’m the one with the rule against eating friends! I’m the one warning you not to eat the apricot beehives tonight.
Gerald Why?
Thistle Helen wants me to put capsules of that date-rape drug Finegan gave her for her protection into your desserts so you’ll forget the night and in the morning no one will know where Barrel went. DON’T EAT THE BEEHIVES! I’ll act defeated and tonight I’ll distract Helen with other schemes for tomorrow’s meal, then tonight, while we sleep, you and Megan put your stuff and Barrel in the van (take the bike, he’ll like that). See the keys there on the front seat? Leave, leave tonight!
Gerald Where? Go where?
Thistle Do you know the Busquats? On our walk up the creek, Helen was telling me how her friends are faring, and the Busquats went to one of those survivalist camps. They took guns and clothes and everything they could fit in their car, but they left behind a nice home, a bicycle generator that charges enough for a Barrel’s toys, and their well has a hand-pump. Go there. Friends don’t let friends stay as dinner.
(During that evening’s meal, Thistle was pleased to see only Helen and she ate the apricot beehive dessert. During that night, Helen woke to the noise of Gerald, Megan, and Berol leaving.)
Helen (whispered) Thistle, wake up!
Thistle (whispered) I’m awake. I’ve been listening. I think they’re leaving, Helen!
Helen (whispered) Good! I won’t have to kill them!
Gerald I heard that! I’m going to tell the authorities about you!
Thistle What a dork! Just get out of here, dipwad!
Helen You better not take anything of mine, I’ll hunt you down, I swear. Parasite! (Sound of van starting up.) They’re taking your van!
Thistle I told him to take it and go to Busquats place. They’re gone, Helen!
Helen They’re gone? Holy chaos, what a relief. You know what the problem is, Thistle, other people. Other people are the problem, and there’re so many of them.
Thistle Too many.
Helen Too many.
Thistle Too fucking many.
Helen Way too many.
Thistle Too many fucking.
Helen Let’s eat one of the beehives left over from dinner. Good thing they didn’t eat theirs. They were excited about you baking those for them.
Thistle I thought so too. Oh, well, all the more for us! Where’s your candle?
Helen There’s plenty of light from the stars, c’mon, follow me.
Thistle You’re a- (whisper) Wait, did you hear that?
Helen (whisper) Was that a man’s voice?
Thistle (whisper) That’s what I thought.
Helen (whisper) There! I heard it again.
Thistle (whisper) And a response. Two men!
Helen (whisper) At least!
Thistle (whisper) Where are the knock-out capsules you told me about?
Helen (whisper) In the kitchen cupboard, c’mon!
Thistle (whisper) Let’s stash knives, everywhere, QUICK!
Helen (whisper) We can dose the beehives and offer them.
Thistle (whisper) Good idea, and if that doesn’t work, we can stab them.
End
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