Redwood Country Flea Market: A Short Story

William stared out the window and kept his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. He knew she was right. Mary viewed the farmhands the same way she viewed livestock on the estate. Eric or any of the men at Heritage Woods would never be good enough. “Then you’re going to have to trust me. I will work on your mother, I promise. You just have to promise me that you’ll play along for a little while. Just wait until your brother is married.” “You promise?” “Yes, honey. I promise.” “I love you, Daddy.” “I love you, too, sweetheart. Now, grab that clipboard on the seat next to you and let’s go over what we need to find at the market.” One of the men on horseback rode up to the driver-side window and motioned for William to stop. William stepped on

A sign at the entrance to the market announced their arrival at the Redwood Country Flea Market. The market was once a smalltime operation only open on Saturday and Sunday afternoons. It was a place for people to empty out their garages and sheds, and sell off junk and extra stuff without having to organize garage or tag sales. With the collapse of interstate commerce, and closure of the big box stores and supermarkets, Redwood transformed into a bustling farmer’s market, and eventually grew into an indispensable feature of commerce in the greater New Haven

The men placed Blue Hills produce on tables under a Blue Hills Farm Stand banner. Men and women in the market immediately flocked to the tables. Blue Hills’ farmhands only accepted Canadian dollars for their goods and produce. William kept a reserve of produce, alcohol, and marijuana in the bed of the truck while his men spread out across the market searching for gasoline, propane, spare parts for the community’s generators and vehicles, penicillin, and medical supplies to barter for. When his men found the supplies on the list prepared by Crocco and Mary, they returned to the truck to review the negotiations with William and finalize the details of the trade. By Noon, the Blue Hills Farm Stand was bare, and the trailer and bed of the truck loaded with fresh supplies.

“Take the truck and my daughter back to Blue Hills,” William told one of the farmhands. “Bring a dozen men with you to make sure you get back without incident. I’ll ride back with the rest of the men in a few hours.”

“How come you’re not coming back to the estate?” Susan asked William when he told her she was riding back without