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Part 39
The day wore on and Brian Flanders continued doing what he was known for. More than a few of the women folks expressed concern over the "loss" of the Smith family, even though no solid proof was offered that they were dead or gone.
Jim was concerned about where this could go. It wouldn't be long before Flanders worked everyone up in a tizzy and a lynch mob started. Jim knew the power of one knucklehead trying to stir the pot. He decided to make a statement.
Jim walked over to the strange couple, smiled and said "ya'll new to the area?"
The woman's eyes darted to the man who spoke up, "Yup, staying at the Smith's place till they return." He expressed exasperation just to have to speak.
"Didn't they end up heading to the relief camp in Vidalia?" Jim asked.
The woman looked uneasy. The man spoke up, "we aren't sure. They were gone when we arrived here. They very well might have."
"Where ya'll from?" Jim said as he sat down near the couple.
The woman's eyes got big when Jim sat down near them. Neither had asked him to sit down.
"Atlanta." The man said tersely.
Jim just smiled at him and matched his stare.
"Name is Jim," Jim said leaving it hanging.
The man hesitated, "I'm Steven, this is my wife Lucy."
The woman flashed a smile Jim's way, Jim nodded his head.
Jim noticed a Gracie triangle tattoo on the man's arm amongst the dozen or so other tatts.
"How long did you train BJJ?" Jim asked.
Steven looked confused at first, then said "oh about six months."
Jim nodded his head and thought "Yet you got a tattoo?"
Steven asked Jim, "So how does this work?"
"How does what work?" Jim replied.
"This thing with the meat, the BBQ you know. Will we get fed or not?" Steve said.
Jim smiled. "Well between you and I" he looked both ways like he was telling a secret, "I'd try to be more helpful if you were looking for some food. The idea is that this is a community effort, that means everyone does something to help."
Jim made a point to check the woman's reaction to this. Her eyes got big and she gazed at Steven. Jim guessed she was not used to seeing anyone push Steven to do much of anything.
Jim said nothing more and waited with a smile on his face. Like many a negotiation, the first one to speak lost. Jim knew people hated uncomfortable silences, Jim tempered the long silence with the smile on his face.
After a quick moment of trying to "bulldog" Jim, Steven's face broke into a smile also and he laughed. Jim laughed also. Finally Steven added "alright, what can we do."
Jim made a point of shaking his hand after this for all to see.
Steven and Lucy were quickly put to work. Jim made a point of taking Lucy over to Debbie and a couple of the women folk that he knew weren't too bad of gossipers. Also, they were more like Lucy, a little "rough around the edges." The last thing Jim would do was to throw Lucy in amongst the gossipy old church women.
Many called these sorts of skills "social engineering." Jim just called them "people skills." They were some of the most overlooked skills amongst survivalists and preppers. Jim was fortunate being a salesman for years for a couple of businesses he owned. One minute he might be interacting with a rich, uppity type that owned a Mercedes dealership. The next minute he might be standing in a pawnshop in "Crackville" dealing with a shrewd business owner and reading customers as they came in. Learning to negotiate, learning how to deal with rude and shrewd customers, learning how to spot and avoid manipulation techniques from people, all of these were skills Jim deemed essential but few ever took the time to learn or practice. Some thought this simply meant being an a-hole enough to get what you wanted. Yet hardball rarely worked cause few people were good at it. It also left a very bad taste in the mouth and eventually the person would seek justice from having their feet held to the fire. Also, playing "hardball" in the PAW was a good way to get killed or "fall on a knife 18 times backwards." Jim was astonished to find so many that professed to be Christians dealing so treacherously in business. Jim got screwed in business deals a lot more often from "good church going folks" and people in perceived positions of authority more than he did the good old boys that spent Sunday mornings fishing and Sunday night cracking a beer. Yet if you let stereotypes and social programming rule your mind, the good old boys were the ones to avoid and the "good church folks" were the ones you wanted to do business with. Jim learned long ago that the businessmen that didn't at the onset profess themselves as Christians but showed it through their truth and sincerity of purpose were the ones he wanted to deal with. Most of the ones that had "John 3:16" plastered all over their offices and asked you what church you went to, were typically the ones that screwed you if they could. In short, they weren't real Christians but used that front to gain acceptance and screw people in business.
Having more "real interaction" with various social stratas of the general public allowed Jim to develop a decent amount of discernment. Their were too many in the old culture of the South that were willing to give you quick acceptance if you said the right words, acted the right way. Most especially amongst Christians. Jim wondered how many people like this had been killed taking other people in or "hiring" people to help them on their farms, etc. The worse part is that most people kid themselves as their real amount of "people skills."
Lucy and Steven were put to work and both worked as hard as everyone else did.
Predominately everyone at the gathering was white except for a couple black folks and one lone Hispanic. Most of the Hispanics in this region were Mexican, but he looked more of the Indian flavor than Mexican flavor. He was also older, Jim guessed in his mid 50's. He was in good shape and between helping out, would ask around if anyone needed day labor or knew of anyone needing day labor on some of the farms. He claimed to have been working in the blueberry fields in an area to the northeast which were heavy with migrant labor when the crash started and would "work cheap." No one seemed to be familiar with him. An older couple with a new farm a couple miles from the church talked with him repeatedly on breaks. The Hests had recently moved to a farm from the city, and were just getting the hang of country living before the crash. They seemed interested in hiring the Hispanic. The man's interested perked up when he heard "I work cheap" from the Hispanic.
Jim wondered how the Hests would "pay" the Hispanic.
The day wore on and Brian Flanders continued doing what he was known for. More than a few of the women folks expressed concern over the "loss" of the Smith family, even though no solid proof was offered that they were dead or gone.
Jim was concerned about where this could go. It wouldn't be long before Flanders worked everyone up in a tizzy and a lynch mob started. Jim knew the power of one knucklehead trying to stir the pot. He decided to make a statement.
Jim walked over to the strange couple, smiled and said "ya'll new to the area?"
The woman's eyes darted to the man who spoke up, "Yup, staying at the Smith's place till they return." He expressed exasperation just to have to speak.
"Didn't they end up heading to the relief camp in Vidalia?" Jim asked.
The woman looked uneasy. The man spoke up, "we aren't sure. They were gone when we arrived here. They very well might have."
"Where ya'll from?" Jim said as he sat down near the couple.
The woman's eyes got big when Jim sat down near them. Neither had asked him to sit down.
"Atlanta." The man said tersely.
Jim just smiled at him and matched his stare.
"Name is Jim," Jim said leaving it hanging.
The man hesitated, "I'm Steven, this is my wife Lucy."
The woman flashed a smile Jim's way, Jim nodded his head.
Jim noticed a Gracie triangle tattoo on the man's arm amongst the dozen or so other tatts.
"How long did you train BJJ?" Jim asked.
Steven looked confused at first, then said "oh about six months."
Jim nodded his head and thought "Yet you got a tattoo?"
Steven asked Jim, "So how does this work?"
"How does what work?" Jim replied.
"This thing with the meat, the BBQ you know. Will we get fed or not?" Steve said.
Jim smiled. "Well between you and I" he looked both ways like he was telling a secret, "I'd try to be more helpful if you were looking for some food. The idea is that this is a community effort, that means everyone does something to help."
Jim made a point to check the woman's reaction to this. Her eyes got big and she gazed at Steven. Jim guessed she was not used to seeing anyone push Steven to do much of anything.
Jim said nothing more and waited with a smile on his face. Like many a negotiation, the first one to speak lost. Jim knew people hated uncomfortable silences, Jim tempered the long silence with the smile on his face.
After a quick moment of trying to "bulldog" Jim, Steven's face broke into a smile also and he laughed. Jim laughed also. Finally Steven added "alright, what can we do."
Jim made a point of shaking his hand after this for all to see.
Steven and Lucy were quickly put to work. Jim made a point of taking Lucy over to Debbie and a couple of the women folk that he knew weren't too bad of gossipers. Also, they were more like Lucy, a little "rough around the edges." The last thing Jim would do was to throw Lucy in amongst the gossipy old church women.
Many called these sorts of skills "social engineering." Jim just called them "people skills." They were some of the most overlooked skills amongst survivalists and preppers. Jim was fortunate being a salesman for years for a couple of businesses he owned. One minute he might be interacting with a rich, uppity type that owned a Mercedes dealership. The next minute he might be standing in a pawnshop in "Crackville" dealing with a shrewd business owner and reading customers as they came in. Learning to negotiate, learning how to deal with rude and shrewd customers, learning how to spot and avoid manipulation techniques from people, all of these were skills Jim deemed essential but few ever took the time to learn or practice. Some thought this simply meant being an a-hole enough to get what you wanted. Yet hardball rarely worked cause few people were good at it. It also left a very bad taste in the mouth and eventually the person would seek justice from having their feet held to the fire. Also, playing "hardball" in the PAW was a good way to get killed or "fall on a knife 18 times backwards." Jim was astonished to find so many that professed to be Christians dealing so treacherously in business. Jim got screwed in business deals a lot more often from "good church going folks" and people in perceived positions of authority more than he did the good old boys that spent Sunday mornings fishing and Sunday night cracking a beer. Yet if you let stereotypes and social programming rule your mind, the good old boys were the ones to avoid and the "good church folks" were the ones you wanted to do business with. Jim learned long ago that the businessmen that didn't at the onset profess themselves as Christians but showed it through their truth and sincerity of purpose were the ones he wanted to deal with. Most of the ones that had "John 3:16" plastered all over their offices and asked you what church you went to, were typically the ones that screwed you if they could. In short, they weren't real Christians but used that front to gain acceptance and screw people in business.
Having more "real interaction" with various social stratas of the general public allowed Jim to develop a decent amount of discernment. Their were too many in the old culture of the South that were willing to give you quick acceptance if you said the right words, acted the right way. Most especially amongst Christians. Jim wondered how many people like this had been killed taking other people in or "hiring" people to help them on their farms, etc. The worse part is that most people kid themselves as their real amount of "people skills."
Lucy and Steven were put to work and both worked as hard as everyone else did.
Predominately everyone at the gathering was white except for a couple black folks and one lone Hispanic. Most of the Hispanics in this region were Mexican, but he looked more of the Indian flavor than Mexican flavor. He was also older, Jim guessed in his mid 50's. He was in good shape and between helping out, would ask around if anyone needed day labor or knew of anyone needing day labor on some of the farms. He claimed to have been working in the blueberry fields in an area to the northeast which were heavy with migrant labor when the crash started and would "work cheap." No one seemed to be familiar with him. An older couple with a new farm a couple miles from the church talked with him repeatedly on breaks. The Hests had recently moved to a farm from the city, and were just getting the hang of country living before the crash. They seemed interested in hiring the Hispanic. The man's interested perked up when he heard "I work cheap" from the Hispanic.
Jim wondered how the Hests would "pay" the Hispanic.
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