Saturday, July 26, 2014

Chapter 3

I cannot believe Carol shot me!!!  It’s horrible!!!  Sorry for the excess exclamation points but it really does suck so totally much I’m not sure how to write it all out. 

Being shot was bad enough but the horrible part is why she shot me.  All I was doing was leaving them a couple of boxes of food and a cooler of meat because I had a really, really good day.  I found one of those warehouses in the commercial park that was some kind of fancy international food distributor. 

Their walk in coolers were still on but the radio had said – not the radio but you know what I mean, one of the news programs on the radio – that they were starting to turn off parts of the area’s electricity so I decided to salvage while I could that was left in those coolers.  Most of the fresh produce like greens were already on their last leg if not already completely gone over, but most of the fruits and meats were still ok.  There were also vegetables like some fresh squash and junk like though it was approaching maximum storage life and I had to take care of it asap.  Aunt Trudy used to call it that – maximum storage life – so did Mom.  They were super into the idea of maximizes nutritional value and crud like that.  I miss them but can’t think about that right no matter how much everything hurts or it will only make it harder.  I got what I got and I can’t throw a fit about it since most of it is my own fault. 

Anyway, back on track.  There was a lot of junky-crappy type stuff in there too but some real treasure.  Like these wheels of cheese; some were so big and heavy they were hard to move.  The biggest were the hard kinds that keep even without refrigeration so long as you can keep them cool enough.  The House gets really hot during the day still.  I think it needs ventilation but I ain’t taking the boards off the windows that’s for dingety-dang sure.  Crap on that.  So I got the idea to store the stuff I brought back down in the basement. 

That was fun … totally, totally not.  First off it is freaking scary down there.  Second, it was full of the devil meece until I put out like a gazillion snap traps and sticky boards.  Which by the way have been totally disgusting to get rid of or clean out depending on what type they were.  Rats and mice … oh my gosh.  I think when there were other people here we used to make enough noise that the rodents stayed hidden but now that it’s just me they’ve decided I’m no threat.  Hope they learn otherwise and go terrorize someone or someplace else.  Or maybe not.  I need to kill every one of the disgusting demons from Beelzebub’s arm pits.  None must live to reproduce.  I mean … totally gross to think of devil meece and rats doing the nasty and making babies in the walls.  The smell ain’t all that great either. 


On one of my early salvage expeditions I found a whole bunch of these expensive metal igloo coolers.  I don’t want to meet the mouse or rat that could chew through one of those things.  So that’s what I’m storing the perishables and soft sided containers in.  I lined them up so I could start off organized and put labels on them so I would know what was in them without having to constantly open up each one until I find what I’m looking for.  Pretty easy too.  I just stuck a small write on/wipe off board on each one.  Found these coolio ones that were magnetized at some dollar store and gotta be one of the easiest fixes I’ve ever designed. 

I also store all of the canned and hard-sided packaged stuff down in the basement … or maybe it is more proper to call it a cellar or whatever.  Just like Mom and Aunt Trudy pounded into my head, I use a permanent marker and write what is on the can on the lid and what the expiration date is.  It has been a lot of work but it will be worth it in the long run.  I already have had some can labels fall off and one got eaten off before I could get everything stored.  I’m not doing all of this work to give the rodents and creepy crawlies a place to buffet at but it isn’t easy keeping them out of stuff.  

OK, this is a lot harder to write down than I thought it would be.  I sound like I’ve got ADD like that dog in that Disney movie that would be talking and suddenly something would catch its attention and it would say, “Squirrel!”  I used to love that moving just to watch that dog get its stupid on.  That is how I feel too in a way.  I keep trying to go forward, pick a direction, and suddenly … Squirrel! 

That day I filled all the coolers I had brought with me and grabbed all of the other kinds of food that would fit in two loads.  It was back breaking work; harder than the few times, when I was first on the street, I could find a little back alley work so that I could eat something fresh instead of dumpster diving for dinner.  I was ready to pack it in and come back the next day but there was still light left and despite being tired and sore I was feeling so good that I just thought I wanted to share it … and maybe that it would be my lucky day and Carol and Mace would be in the mood to forgive me.  Of course bearing gifts might give me an edge too so I took the 4x4 – sans trailer – refilled it with some stuff, and then drove to the B-n-B. 

I had two boxes of food and a cooler of meat on the big porch and was about to knock when Mace came around the house. 


“Uh … hi Mace.  I was just in the neighborhood and …” 

Urgently he said, “You need to leave …” 

“But …” 

This time he snapped, “Now.  Go.”

OK, I admit my feelings were hurt.  I mean I knew I had really screwed up and everything but I didn’t think they’d just totally blow me off without letting me apologize. 

“Mace, I just wanted to …” 

“Are you deaf?!  Get outta here.  Right now!”  He wasn’t yelling exactly but he was getting his point across. 

Then I heard Carol scream.  I tried to turn hero.   Stupid, stupid, stupid.  I yelled, “Mace … something has Carol!  We have to …” 

That’s when things entered the Twilight Zone.  Mace shouted, “Run Winx!  Go!” 

A window that faced the porch exploded and so did the hanging basket that I had been standing next to.  I think I screamed, I can’t remember for sure.  I do remember Mace shouting at me to run but then I felt like someone slugged me so hard that I spun around so hard that I rolled down and off the porch steps.  Then my left arm started to feel like it was on fire. 

Mace ran passed me and into the house shouting, “Carol!  Baby!  You don’t want to do this!!  No one is going to hurt you!  I won’t let them!” 


Carol screamed again and then after a brief, shock-filled silence started crying, “No. No, no, no.”  Then she snarled and shouted, “I’m going to kill you for this!” 

She ran out onto the porch and she was going to shoot me again.  I accepted it and just lay there even though I couldn’t really figure out what was going on.  But then a little red hole appeared in Carol’s chest above the edge of the tank top she had been wearing.  She crumpled bonelessly. 

How’s that for an adverb?  Bonelessly.  I’ve seen it in several of those Victorian novels that I’ve been reading.  As in “she crumpled bonelessly into the arms of the ruthless rake.”  I always imagined it was some beautiful and graceful faint.  Wrong.  It isn’t graceful.  It isn’t beautiful.  It looks like an old puppet that just had its strings cut.   

One second Carol was standing there.  Alive.  The next second she dropped like a rock all in an ugly heap. 

Forget it.  I’m done in.  I thought writing would help get my mind off of the pain but it isn’t.  It’s only making everything hurt worse.  I guess I’ll take one of those pills I snagged and just sleep.

1 comment:

  1. Good chapter, and good character development as usual :) Thanks!