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Post by ncsfsgm on Oct 25, 2023 3:40:43 GMT -6
Chapter 15
Barry went outside and walked over to the area next to the pavilion to make sure the ground wasn’t soft. The compound had a lot of history and every time he visited he always came away with a sense of awe.
In Barry’s family, military service had been a family tradition since the Revolution. His grandfathers, father, and paternal uncles had all served. Since he was knee high to a grasshopper, they all had reminded him, the only son in his generation, to continue the family tradition. Barry had other ideas of how to spend his life. And considering the changes in the military since his father and uncles had served, he wondered why his father and uncles had never suggested military service, rather than college, to his older sisters and cousins. But against his better judgment, he gave in and signed up a few months before graduation. The recruiter practically drooled over Barry’s ASVAB scores when he went to enlist. The recruiter was less enthusiastic once Brett insisted that he wanted to be a medic. Barry Buchannon went into the Army three weeks after graduating from high school.
It wasn't long before Barry had some doubts once he completed his schooling and was assigned to his first unit whose medic had left the service. He was soon counting days to the end of his commitment. He got along well enough with the soldiers in his unit, but they all seemed so immature. Barry felt their swagger and cockiness didn’t match their proficiency. Most of it was what Barry considered false bravado. The other guys in his unit understood that, as a medic, he would look at things from a different perspective, but they respected him. Their respect for him grew even more when they saw him work on victims of a helicopter crash, working almost completely alone until other medical personnel arrived. Barry was giving orders to infantrymen to help him stabilize the injured until more medical personnel arrived. From then on, he was “The Doc.”
Barry had been diligent in helping the injured that day and caught the attention of a Major, actually a doctor himself, and two medics that had been in the same training area that day and had come to offer assistance. The three men were members of a Special Forces unit on post and all three praised Barry for his work. Barry had seen them working and was impressed with their abilities even more. It wasn’t many weeks after that Barry volunteered for Special Forces training and was accepted. Barry never regretted making that decision. He learned so much and felt a fulfillment never felt before. The men he served with on the team and in training to be a Special Forces medic were a lot more mature than those in his previous unit, each man highly skilled in their military occupation specialty.
Seán inspected the stain the crew had sprayed on the siding, hiding the fact that the board siding on the barn was brand new. From just a few meters, the boards looked like they had been weather-beaten for generations. He was having the shed and workshop done the same way. From the state road, the buildings looked old, but well kept. He was counting on the deception to keep someone new to the area from getting too suspicious of the farm’s status.
Seán woke up the next morning to the smell of wood smoke from the stove and fresh coffee. Fala must be in the kitchen. He slipped on some sweats and his moccasins and headed for the kitchen. As he entered, he heard the sound of bacon grease crackling in the pan for pancakes as Fala busied herself at the stove. He poured a mug of coffee and sat down at the table.
“What are you doing this morning?” Fala asked.
“I thought I’d take a walk up the ridge to Hunters’ Cove and check for deer sign,” Seán said.
“I’ve got to go back to Cherokee. Fala said, Jay Redfeather is bringing in deer hides this afternoon and I want to get ahead of the rest and pick out his best ones.”
“You won’t be able to get down there and back until tomorrow! Why don’t you let me fly you down?” Seán asked. “I can have you down there in an hour.”
“Where would you land?” Fala asked.
“Well, if you called ahead and got permission, I could land in that field next to the Mountain Farm Museum with no problem,” Seán replied.
Fala made a couple of calls and an hour and a half later, Seán was readying the plane. It was an easy flight and in a little under an hour he was setting his flaps and slowing the plane for landing. He made a short-field landing and taxied up near the museum. One of Fala’s assistants had a truck there for them to use and they headed for where they would find Redfeather.
Fala bought eight hides from Redfeather. He had bought hides from other hunters but had cured them all himself. Fala would finish them into buckskin later for her purposes. They took them to her workplace and Seán got to meet her two giggling workmates. She stored the hides and they left to go back to the plane, Suzy went with them to return the truck. A small crowd gathered outside the museum to watch the plane take off in almost the distance of its length.
“This hasn’t been as bad as I had feared,” Fala said.
“What? Flying?” Seán said, grinning.
“Yes, this is the first time I have flown. You make it seem so effortless and safe,” Fala said.
“Well, it is as long as you know what you are doing and don’t get nonchalant about it.”
Barry unloaded the Rokon out of the trailer and set the perimeter alarm that evening. It was quiet that evening and he slept the sleep of the dead. He was up before sunup, showered and had ridden up to Doc Bennet Road before he saw the first person of the day, probably headed to work. Barry’s destination was the New York Café, on the 301 bypass, if it was still there. The New York was typical of any greasy spoon you have ever eaten at in the country. Fried eggs, toast, country ham, and a little strawberry preserves, with a gallon of coffee gave him his start of the day. Sitting and sipping a glass of water, Barry made his first call…Dwayne Billings.
“Hello?”
“Dwayne? This is Barry Buchannon.”
“What?!” Barry! Where are you?”
“I’m sitting at the New York Café just finishing coffee.” Barry replied.
“Stay right where you are! I’m just turning off Owen Drive. I’ll be there in 5 minutes!”
“I’ll be here.”
Five minutes later, almost to the second, Dwayne walked through the door, his 6’2” body taking up the entire doorway. It seemed Dwayne was now a Cumberland County Sheriff’s Deputy. Dwayne, grinning like a mule eating briars, hurried to Barry’s booth and shook his hand, and laid his Smokey hat on the table. Barry waved his hand at Dwayne’s uniform and asked, “They quit doing background checks?”
Dwayne chuckled. “You have to know someone who is good with computers. You’re looking good. How’s it been going?”
“Pretty good. Just finished a one-year contract up in Montana on an Indian res and decided to head for a warmer climate.”
“I heard that! Damn! I can remember that ski training we took up there! So, where are you headed?”
Barry shrugged. “I don’t know. Haven’t made up my mind yet. I’m not in a hurry. I’m pretty flush. Made some good hits at the casino a few times and there wasn’t much to spend my money on up there but food and warm clothes.”
Dwayne laughed. “That bad hunh?”
“It wasn’t so bad. Got some good experience and met some good people. Do you keep up with the rest of the old team?”
“All that are still alive, or at least keep a handle on them.” Dwayne said. “Everyone’s scattered to hell and gone, but guess who popped up on the radar screen?”
“Who?”
“Seán Blake. He’s living here in North Carolina, not sure where but he’s in Western North Carolina. He registered a Motorcycle in Virginia and that’s where I got his contact number from. Haven’t talked to him yet.”
“I’ve wondered how he was doing with his leg. Must be doing all right if he’s riding a cycle.” Barry said.
“He registered a Rokon.” Dwayne said.
“You’re shittin’ me!” Barry replied. “I’ve got to give him a call.”
Dwayne pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and pulled up his contact list, after adding Barry to it, he read Seán’s number off to Barry as Barry quickly typed it in and read it back to Dwayne.
“You got it!” Dwayne said.
“I’ll give him a call.” Barry said. “What about Chief Parsons?”
“He met a sweet thing out in Hawaii, and they are running an inn on Vanuatu.”
“He always wanted to live in the South Pacific after he watched Donavan’s Reef.” Barry said, grinning.
“Well, he’s got it now, along with three kids.”
“That old goat!” Barry chuckled.
“What about you” Dwayne asked. "You leave any papooses along the trail?”
“No, tried to get hitched up but she was too much woman for me. You?” Barry asked.
“Sally and I had one more. I was shooting for a basketball team, but Sally nixed that. No pun intended.”
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Post by gipsy on Oct 25, 2023 8:15:25 GMT -6
Fine update Thnks
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Post by feralferret on Oct 25, 2023 21:41:01 GMT -6
Ncsfsgm, thank you.
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Post by ncsfsgm on Oct 26, 2023 13:35:21 GMT -6
Chapter 16
Barry chuckled. “What about Emmit?”
“Emmit owns a custom car restoration place up in Eureka Springs. You should stop by and see him.” Dwayne said.
“I will, before I leave town,” Barry said. “Have you heard anything from Seán?"
“No, but I’ll bet Emmit has been keeping track. He’s got some mole in Washington that finds him anybody,” Dwayne replied.
“Well, I gotta piss then I’m outta here. I’ll head up to see Emmit,” Barry said.
“How long are you planning to stick around?” Dwayne asked.
“Maybe another day. I want to find somewhere to settle in for the summer,” Barry replied.
“Hey, you could settle here. You might get a job at what now passes for the goat lab.” Dwayne said.
“Naw, I don’t think so,” Barry said, grinning.
“Okay pardner, keep in touch…” Dwayne said.
“I’ll check in when I drive in my tent stakes,” Barry said. “Make sure you let Emmit know so he isn’t working his self to death.”
Dwayne grinned. “Yeah, he’s busy enough with his cars.”
Dwayne followed Barry outside to the Rokon and Barry donned his helmet, then shook Dwayne’s hand. "Good seeing you again Buddy.”
“You bet. Stay in touch,” Dwayne replied. Barry gave the starter rope on the Rokon a pull, pulled out of the parking lot and headed for Ramsey Street.
As Barry cruised up Ramsey Street and waited at the light at MacArthur Road, he was humming to himself.
In the deep, dark hills of eastern Kentucky That's the place where I trace my bloodline And it's there I read on a hillside gravestone "You will never leave Harlan alive"
When he got to Eureka Springs, Barry followed Dwayne’s directions and pulled up into a garage area with three bays. Emmit looked out from under the hood of a car and wiped his hands on a shop rag as Barry took off his helmet.
“Good Lord Almighty! George, take that carb off and clean it. I’ll be busy for a while.”
Emmit walked up to Barry and gave him a big hug.
“You finally get tired of playing cowboys and injuns?” Emmit asked.
Barry grinned. “Something like that,” He replied.
“You didn’t get hitched up? Well for every man there’s a woman out there,” Emmit said.
“Yeah, the trick is finding her.” Barry replied. “What are you working on?”
“1969 Camero Z28. Bill Mason traded his Rialta in for it to give to his son.”
Barry looked around the shop and spotted a Kaiser-Jeep M530, but what caught his eye was the 1967 Kaiser Jeep M715, looking like the day it rolled off the line.
“You do military vehicle restorations too?” Barry asked.
“Yeah, kind of a hobby.” Emmit replied. "It's hard to find parts for some of this stuff."
Barry walked over to the 715. It even had a shovel and pick mattock.
“Like it, do ya?” Emmit asked.
“She’s beautiful. What do you do with them when you are finished?” Barry asked.
My son puts them online. They go pretty fast. Do you want to buy it?” Emmit asked.
“I’d give you a check right now, but I’d have to leave it until I find a place to light,” Barry replied.
“Well, pull out your checkbook. I’ll keep it warm and dry for you.” Emmit replied, grinning.
Barry pulled his checkbook out of an inside jacket pocket.
“I talked to Dwayne this morning. He said Seán had settled in western North Carolina."
“Yeah, he was from Ashe County, that was his home of record. He’s probably settled there. You want his number and address?”
“Yeah, if you could,” Barry said.
Emmit went into his little office while Barry inspected the 715. Emmit was soon back with a big Post-It note with Seán’s address and phone number on it. The number matched the number Dwayne had given him.
“I’m going to call Seán right now!” Barry said, pulling out his phone.
Barry dialed the number, and it rang three times before Seán answered.
“Sean! It’s Barry Buchannon.”
“Doc! Long time, no see. Where are you?” Seán asked.
“I’m in Eureka Springs, in Emmit Moore’s garage, checking on him,” Barry answered.
“Well, pack up your ruck and head this way. I’ve got some good whiskey for you to sample.”
“I’ll do that. I’ll see you soon,” Barry said, handing the phone to Emmit.
While Emmit and Sean talked, Barry looked over the 715 some more and was figuring mileages in his head. It was about four hours to the mountains. Giving himself some leeway, he added two hours to that to give himself time for fumbling around finding Seán’s house. Emmit handed the phone back to Barry and said, “he’s still on the line.”
“Hello?”
“Prepare to copy, Barry.”
Barry quickly pulled a pen out and said, “Send it.”
Seán gave Barry the geographical coordinates of the farm. Barry read them back to him.
“Good copy. You can't miss it. It's right in a bend of the New River. You’d probably be riding all over half the county without those coordinates though. Are you coming up today?” Seán asked.
“No, I’ll leave Fayetteville in the morning.” Barry replied.
“Well, have a safe trip and I’m really looking forward to seeing you.” Seán said.
“Me too buddy. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”
They ended the call and Barry turned to Emmit.
“Emmit, as soon as I’ve picked a place, I’ll arrange for a hauler to pick the truck up.”
“No problem. I’ll keep her dusted off and safe for you.” Emmit replied.
As Barry got on the Rokon, he looked at his watch. He had time to visit the Airborne and Special Operations Museum, get some dinner, and get a good night’s rest.
The next morning Barry was up early. After he showered, he made a little breakfast and began filling his freshwater tank from a spigot at the pavilion. While it was filling, he emptied his wastewater cassettes in the latrine, cleaned up, and pulled off the compound. Instead of following 421 up to I-40, he decided to take the back roads to Asheboro and on to Mocksville and catch I-40 there. It was about the same time but nicer scenery.
Once he got to I-40, Barry set the cruise control to five miles above the speed limit and cruised to I-77 where he got off I-40 and headed to Elkin. There, the directions had him take US-21 to Twin Oaks before heading northwest to Seán’s place. He did stop in Sparta to get a sandwich, eating it there. He was about to meet up with some hairpin turns and switchbacks soon and didn’t want to take a chance of driving and eating at the same time. US-21 turned into US 221 at Twin Oaks and from there on it was mostly backcountry roads. At 1515, Barry crossed the Garvey Bridge and turned left to go two-tenths of a mile to Seán’s driveway.
Seán heard the big diesel engine coming up the hill and went out on the porch. What looked at first like a beige box truck pulling a matching trailer came over the grade and parked next to the house. The truck door opened, and Barry stepped out, a little older and a few white hairs showing at the temples.
“Seán! God it’s good to see you!” Barry said.
“If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be having this meeting, Doc, you saved my life.” Seán said, stepping forward and embracing Barry.
“It was nothing, some QuikClot, a couple of gauze pads, a sheet of splinting material, and a roll of K-tape and you were ready for a 5 K.”
“My ass! Thanks anyway, but I didn’t quite make it that quick. I can run, but I have a blade to help me do that,” Seán said, lifting up his pant leg.
“Well, my job was to make sure you healed to be vertical and above ground. I couldn’t help what the quacks did after you left us.” Barry said, slightly frowning.
“Oh, I’m not blaming anyone. In fact, my life has turned out pretty good.” Seán said. “Hey, come on in and try some of Grandpa’s whiskey.”
They went inside to the great room where Seán upturned two silver-plate Jefferson cups and drew about three ounces from the cask into each. Handing Barry one of the cups Seán said, “Blue Skys!” Barry lifted his cup to Seán and answered with “Black death!”
Hey! This is pretty good stuff!” Barry said. “How old is it?”
Seán shrugged. “Fifty or sixty years old, I guess. So, what are you doing these days?”
“Well, I started out on my PA, got out and finished it up at UNC. I took a job at the Blackfeet reservation in Montana for a year and decided to go somewhere else a little warmer. I left Montana and went straight to Fayetteville to check up on everyone.”
“And your plans are…..?” Seán asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t need a job real soon, so I have time to figure it out. I just want to plant my feet on the ground for a while and enjoy the lack of hustle and bustle.
“Well, this is as good a place as any. It’s quiet and the only hustle and bustle is what you decide to make.” Seán said. “The quietness of the mountains is healing and personally rewarding. Why don’t you stick around here a while and get your bearings?”
“I think I’d like that,” Barry said.
They heard the back door open, and Fala came in with a basket in her hands.
“Aunt Maggie sent loaves of cinnamon and blueberry bread!” Fala said loudly.
"Fala! Come here!” Seán said. “I’d like you to meet the man that saved my life, Barry Buchannon.”
“No Seán, that hooker was too old to have hurt you.” Barry said.
Fala grinned and came into the room. “I’ve heard the story, at least Seán’s version, but your version sounds more interesting.”
“He is also a world-class liar too!” Seán said. “He could sell lies for a living!”
Fala laughed. “I’ll finish making supper.”
Barry raised his eyebrows. “You’re married?”
“No, she’s here on vacation,” Seán replied. “But I think I’ll be changing that.”
“I should be so lucky.” Barry said, taking another sip of the whiskey.
“For every man there’s a woman out there,” Sean said.
Barry frowned. “Yeah, someone told me that recently,”
“Probably Emmit. He was always saying that to me,” Seán said.
“You’ve got a beautiful place here, Seán.” Barry said.
It’s my little piece of Paradise,” Seán replied. “Since you aren’t in a hurry, why don’t you stick around a few days and get some fishing in.”
Are there trout in the river?”
“Yes, there are Brown and Rainbow, good ones too. Maybe not as big as those in Montana though.”
“If you have a rod I can borrow, I’d like to try and catch some.” Barry said. "My fishing gear is buried in the trailer."
“Oh, hell yes! You can park your rig as long as you like or I have a guest room for you,” Seán said excitedly.
“Thanks, I think I can enjoy either one. This is much different from what I’m used to,” Barry said.
“I thought they had mountains in Montana.”
“They do but the reservation was out in the relatively flat prairie. The air here seems different too.” Barry said.
“Well, get your stuff for the night out of your rig,” Seán said. “We can figure out where to park your rig tomorrow.”
Barry went to the Pangea and got his toilet kit, and clothes for the next day together, and paused as he locked the rig back up. He stood there and looked at the scenery for a moment and enjoyed the mountain air. Going inside, Sean showed him to the guest room with ensuite.
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Post by gipsy on Oct 26, 2023 14:50:58 GMT -6
Fine update thanks
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Post by feralferret on Oct 27, 2023 2:35:48 GMT -6
Ncsfsgm, thank you.
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Post by ydderf on Oct 28, 2023 16:50:45 GMT -6
Thank you NCSFSGM
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Post by imahic on Oct 28, 2023 20:00:58 GMT -6
Thanks for your efforts. Great story.
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Post by ncsfsgm on Oct 31, 2023 20:42:26 GMT -6
Chapter 17
Seán and Barry talked into the night and finally went to bed right at midnight. They were both up fairly early, Seán at his usual time and Barry because the coffee smelled delicious.
Barry dressed and went into the kitchen. Seán heard him coming and poured another mug out of the percolator. They took their coffee on the front porch and sat and watched as the sky slowly lightened in the east.
“So, you are completely off the grid?” Barry asked.
“Yep. Not much solar, most of the outbuildings use that, the rest is wind generators and I’m looking on adding a hydro generator in the spring.”
“I’ve heard and read some horror stories about wind and solar.” Barry said.
“I haven’t had any problems.” Seán said. “I think people don’t know how to adjust to wind and solar power or have been scammed. I was lucky and found a good company near Winston-Salem who knew what they were doing.”
“I don’t hear any windmill blades turning.” Barry said.
“And you won’t. They used something relatively new, I guess, called a vortex generator. It’s just a mast like a flagpole, which vibrates as the wind blows around it and produces D.C. voltage to charge the batteries in the bank. Those things will charge at the slightest breeze. You don’t need a lot of wind.” Seán said.
“Interesting.” Barry said.
As they sipped their coffee, the river slowly appeared down at the bottom of the ridge.
“So, that’s the New River.” Barry commented.
“Yep, like I said, there is some good fishing there.” Seán said.
I loved to fish in Montana. The rivers drain an extensive region of western Montana and northern Idaho into the Columbia River shed. The best fishing was when the mayflies swarmed in June and July.”
“That’s about the same here.” Seán said. “This time of year, they’ll be more to the center of the river, but you can coax them out with a wet fly or soft lure imitating a crawfish. This time of year, I mostly use wet flies and soft lures. I’ve used salmon eggs at times when I can find or order them online. When they are biting good, I keep enough to smoke, and Fala has some Native American recipes that make your taste buds explode.”
“Yeah, I love smoked trout,” Barry said.
Barry looked across the river and saw the white and gray barked trees standing still and leafless with the occasional green patches of Red Spruce, Hemlock, or Eastern Red Cedar trees dotting the mountains around them.
“This is really a beautiful area,” Barry said.
They heard the sound of a cast iron fry pan being placed on the stovetop as Fala began preparing breakfast. After tossing the lukewarm coffee into the bushes, they went inside.
Seán went back outside to gather fresh eggs as Fala fried bacon and ham. Seán collected eight eggs, cleaned them off and set them in an empty foam carton, and took them back to Fala after making sure the chickens had plenty of feed, oyster shells, and water.
After a big breakfast of ham, bacon, eggs, and blueberry pancakes, the men went out to reposition the Pangea RV. They rode around in the Gator and picked out a spot above the barn near where Seán was going to build the dam for the hydro generator. They unhooked the trailer and hooked it to the tractor and pulled it in and chocked it, then parked the Pangea and leveled it. Barry unloaded the Rokon and parked it under the awning and set out a couple of camping chairs.
“My goodness! The view is beautiful here!” Barry said. “The trees must be spectacular in the fall.”
“The trees in the mountains around here are secret keepers. Hand them something precious and their roots will reach out to swaddle it, safe and warm, underground, only sharing with the wind.” Seán said.
Barry looked at Seán questionably.
“Since the 20’s the mob has buried a lot of bodies up in these mountains. Very rarely are any ever found.” Seán explained. “And too, people come into the mountains to start new lives from what they had fled. It is considered rude to ask newcomers curious questions about their pasts. Live the Golden Rule and they leave you alone and let you live your life.”
“Sounds idyllic.” Barry said.
“Downside to it all, there are too many buying up land and building their wilderness estates to flee the socialist strongholds in the northeast and bringing their ideas along with them,” Seán said.
“How do they find places?” Barry asked.
“Oh, they come down for fun, like the tubing, kayaking, and canoeing, and pick up on the tranquility. They offer a landowner amounts of money that can’t be ignored and horn in and decide they want to change the ways things are done. The next thing you know you’ve got county and community rules they brought with them being implemented and pissing long-time residents off. Right before I left here to go into the Army. A couple from New York bought 300 acres to the north of here and built this huge log home. Kept a King Air at the Ashe County Airport and a Robinson helicopter at their house to fly to the airport. Grady told me they crashed the King Air on a trip to Nashville, killing the couple. The house burned down due to lightning strike, and no one has done anything up there since. I’m looking at buying it up to keep any other interlopers out.”
“How much does something like that cost?” Barry asked.
“I won’t know until I buy it, but land prices can start at $4500 an acre around here.” Seán said.
“That’s pushing one and a half Million! You’ve got that?” Barry exclaimed.
“Not readily. I’d have to liquidate some stocks, but I could do it. You want to go see it?”
“Sure, I’m ready to ride and see some country.” Barry said.
“Let me go get my bike and I’ll meet you back here.” Seán replied.
When Seán came back, he was wearing a shoulder holster and a backpack. Barry followed Seán on what appeared to be a game trail up the slope and through the woods, crossed a shallow stream and up the slope through more trees. They came out into an overgrown open area which they skirted and finally came up what was once a graveled driveway. Turning right, they went about a quarter of a mile until they came to the charred ruins of the house.
Getting off their bikes, they walked around looking. There was another structure that the roof had rotted and fallen in. They found a well and in the ruins of the house they found burnt vehicles. They found what might have been a garden once, Rhubarb was growing there.
“You say there’s 300 acres here?” Barry asked.
“Three hundred and three, to be exact,” Seán answered. “The property line runs right up to mine.”
Barry walked up to the highest part of the clearing and looked around, thinking. “I’d like to find something like this,” Barry told Seán.
“Well, you buy it then. I just wanted to keep it safe from the Yankees.” Seán replied. “You’d make a good neighbor. Let’s go back to the house and talk about it over some cold cider.”
They parked their bikes next to the porch and went in. Seán poured them glasses of cider and they sat in the family room and discussed the land.
“What do you know about the property?” Barry asked.
“It’s about to come up for land auction so it’s possible to get the land for the cost of back taxes and fees. I was going to go down and consult a real estate attorney to guide me through.” Seán replied. "We can go down to Jefferson in the morning if you like.”
“Let’s do it. I know you don’t always have pleasant winters down here, but it sure beats Montana.” Barry said.
Fala called them to supper of breaded pork chops, mustard greens, garlic roasted potatoes, and cornbread.
The next morning, after breakfast, Seán and Barry headed to Jefferson to see Joseph Markum, a real estate attorney. Seán explained the situation and Mr. Markum took a few notes.
“Well, I’ve got time to go down to Government Circle and check this out. Check back with me at 3:00 this afternoon and I’ll brief you on what I’ve found out.” Mr. Markum said.
Seán looked at Barry and nodded.
They left Mr. Markum’s office and Barry said, “Well, we have six hours, what do we do now?”
“Well, we could go back home and come back, but first, why don’t I show you around where everything is?” Sean said. “Jefferson and West Jefferson have the only stores of any kind close to the Bend."
Barry shrugged. “You’ve got the keys.”
Seán drove around and showed Barry everything Jefferson had to offer, which wasn’t much, then headed over to West Jefferson.
“What do people do around here to make a living?” Barry asked.
“Service industry jobs mostly. There are a few Christmas tree farms, a couple of wineries, and boutique stores that cater to the tourists. Thankfully, the tourists don’t get up this way too much, except in the summer. They mostly hang around Boone, Asheville, and Blowing Rock. Up our way, tourist come up to play on the river.”
“Do they bother you much?” Barry asked.
“Only when they are driving. You have to drive defensively ALL the time!” Seán replied.
“I need to send for the truck I bought from Emmit.” Barry commented.
“What did you buy?” Seán asked.
“A 1967 Kaiser Jeep M715.” Barry replied. “He’s restored everything but the unit ID and the white stars on the doors.”
“Sweet.”
They stopped by Ashe County Cheese and Barry bought a block of waxed cheese, then they headed back to the Bend. Seán took him through Grassy Creek to show him where the post office was, then on to home.
Before they had left for Jefferson, Barry had opened the windows in the Pangea and the RV was aired out and fresh. Barry called Emmit to arrange for a hauler to bring up the 715. Emmit asked Barry for the coordinates and said it would be delivered there. After reading back and verifying the coordinates, Emmit grinned and told Barry to have the drinks ready, he’d deliver the vehicle himself.
Fala was on the phone when Seán walked in. Seán heard her say her sister’s name and then ended the call.
“Was that Catori?” Seán asked.
“Yes, she is being forced to take her comp time while everything’s relatively slow and she wanted to get out of the village. I hope you don’t mind but I invited her here for a few days."
“No, I don’t mind at all. I thought they could sell back their comp time.”
“The hospital administration has suspended that as a cost saving measure. I’m kind of glad they have. She really needs a break,” Fala said.
“Just for the record, any of your family is more than welcome here anytime. Just remind them to keep the tipis out of the Rhododendrons."
Fala slapped Seán’s arm. “I’ll have you know we don’t use tipi lodges!”
Seán reached and drew her into his arms.
“A great female writer of the last century, Kathleen Norris, once wrote:
‘Like faith, marriage is a mystery. The person you’re committed to spending your life with is known and yet unknown, at the same time remarkably intimate and necessarily other. The classic seven-year itch may not be a case of familiarity breeding ennui and contempt, but the shock of having someone you thought you knew all too well suddenly seem a stranger. When that happens, you are compelled to either recommit to the relationship or get the hell out. There are many such times in a marriage. When those times come, we must recommit with the strength, passion, and faith we had the first day we first committed to one another’.”
“I committed to you the first time I saw you in the pasture.” Seán said.
“And the moment we met I dreamed to have you someday as my mate.” Fala said.
“Then I should begin making it official.” Seán said.
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Post by feralferret on Oct 31, 2023 21:03:20 GMT -6
Looks like she has him hooked. I wonder if her sister will do the same to Barry.
Thanks, ncsfsgm!
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Post by ncsfsgm on Nov 1, 2023 7:48:41 GMT -6
Chapter 18
Barry and Seán were back in Mr. Markum’s office at 1500.
Mr. Markum cleared his throat and shuffled his notes around. “Well, it’s pretty cut and dried. You pay the taxes and pay some county fees and the land is yours. I’m not surprised anyone hasn’t picked it up yet. The land isn’t resort material and the latest influx of outsiders tend to buy property in Avery, Watauga, and Buncombe counties, closer to “civilization”.” "I’ve made a list of steps you need to accomplish. You would need somewhere around $186,000 to buy the land, preferably in a certified check, but check with the tax office to get the final cost. The land is appraised at $1,515,000, depending on the politics of the tax assessor that year."
Barry and Seán took the list and left Mr. Markum’s office.
“I need to get busy and get the money together. It might take me a couple of days,” Barry said, frowning.
“I tell you what,” Seán said. “I’ll take you down to Government Circle and you go to the tax office. I’ll head over to the First National Bank, wait for you to call telling me the exact amount, and get a certified check and bring it to the tax office. You have a lot of firewood to split.”
Barry grinned. “I appreciate it. I’m worried someone is going to get to the head of the line.”
Seán dropped Barry off and headed to the bank and waited for the call. Barry called in an excited voice. “It works out to be $180,000 dollars!”
“Sean grinned. “Give me 30 minutes and I’ll meet you there.”
Seán’s personal account manager got the check printed out, put it in an envelope and handed it to Seán.
Twenty minutes later, Seán handed Barry the envelope. And a few minutes later, Barry was handed a brand spanking new deed. Barry looked at Seán and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Buddy. I’ll get your money back to you as quick as I can.”
When they got back to the Bend, Barry went to work talking to his money manager, to get the money transferred back to Seán.
Seán asked Barry if he wanted to go hog hunting that night. Barry said he would, and they agreed to meet at Barry’s Pangea at 2000.
Seán screwed the SOCOM556-SB2 gun mufflers on two AR15s and replaced the batteries in the night vision scopes. On their ride up to the house ruins, Seán had seen signs of hog activity. Not that they had any crops in for the feral hogs to dig up, but they did get into springs and mess them up. Later, they determined the hogs had been grazing for acorns. Seán only occasionally had hogs come around and he wanted to get them before they bred. Then it got bad with piglets running all over the place.
Seán drove the Gator up to the Pangea and picked up Barry. Seán handed Barry a tactical vest with canteen attached and eight fully loaded magazines in pouches, a night vision monocular, a radio with earbud, and the AR15 with scope.
“I saw the signs on that wide ledge that runs just beneath the open field where the house stood. I’m going to set you up to cover about 100 meters of the ledge and I’m going to set up, so we have them in a crossfire.” Seán said. “There are two IR chemlight in your vest. Hang them high so I can spot your position. I’ll do the same from my hide.”
“Roger that.”
Seán led Barry to his position, then walked away into the darkness. Barry watched Seán until he stopped and broke his chemlight. Barry broke and hung his chemlights, placing one like a firing stake to ensure Seán was out of his lane of fire.
Two hours later, Barry heard a grunting and snorting noise and turned the monocular on. He spotted the hogs coming from his right front and picked up the rifle. Having chambered a round previously, all he had to do was turn the scope on and take the safety off the rifle to fire. He picked up the hogs in his scope and took aim. When the hogs were almost in front of him, he aligned the scope and fired at the smallest hog first. His shot was followed by two quick shots from Seán. When he looked back to where the hogs had been, he saw all three were on the ground.
“CEASE FIRE! I’M COMING DOWN!” Seán called on the radio.
Seán walked up to Barry’s position and said, “Let’s go check them out.”
Seán turned on a flashlight and they made their way to the hogs. One of the hogs was taken by a heart shot and the other two were taken with head shots. Looking at the wounds, Barry asked, “What kind of ammunition were we using?”
“I modified some .223 hollow points.,” Seán said. “We don’t follow the Geneva Convention on the Bend.”
“I guess not!”
"Come on, let’s get these things dressed out,” Seán said.
“You eat these things?” Barry asked.
“Sure, I’ll smoke the hams and get the ribs out.”
“Don’t they carry diseases?” Barry asked.
“Yes, to include swine brucellosis, pseudorabies, leptospirosis, and trichinosis. Pseudorabies isn’t known to affect humans but can kill dogs if exposed. Trichinosis comes in several species of parasitic roundworms. The variety found in domestic hogs is killed with 10 days in a deep freezer, but the kind potentially found in wild hogs can still persist after a thorough freeze. However, cooking the meat to 145 degrees Fahrenheit will kill all trichinosis.” Seán explained. “I’ll take care of that during the last stages of the smoking process.”
They began butchering the hogs, and while Barry was doing the skinning, Seán laid out the field butchering kit and put together the bone saw. They temporarily put the meat in the smokehouse and would finish the processing of the meat later in the morning. It was already 02:00 AM.
They were up at 0800, and after having a light breakfast and two cups of coffee each, Barry and Seán finished cutting up the rest of the meat. Seán mixed up his salt cure and placed the quarters into salt boxes and covered them with the cure. Seán put rub on the ribs and wrapped them in food service plastic and placed them in the spare refrigerator. They would have smoked ribs tomorrow. Barry went back to the Pangea to clean up and Seán took a much-needed shower.
When he was dressed, Seán went to the kitchen where Fala was making cornbread sticks to go with the pot of chili she had on the stove.
“I called Barry and invited him down for dinner,” Fala said.
“That was nice of you,” Seán said.
“You need to get another deer. I used up the last of the venison for the chili,” Fala said.
“I’ll put that in my book,” Seán said, getting a drink of water.
“Oh, and Catori will be here this afternoon,” Fala said.
The words were no sooner out of her mouth that they heard the short toot of a horn outside. Seán put his glass down on the counter and went to the door. Catori came skipping up the steps with a big grin on her face.
“Hello, you sweet man!” Catori said, kissing Seán on the cheek and pushing her way past him.
“Uh…hello Catori,” Seán said, closing the door and following her into the kitchen.
“Can I get you something to drink Catori?” Seán asked.
“A glass of that hard cider Fala said you made,” Catori replied.
Barry walked up the steps and knocked on the screen door. Catori jumped up and said, “I’ll get it” and went to open the door.
Barry caught his breath and almost had an episode of tachycardia.
Catori pushed open the screen door and Barry entered. Fala came out of the kitchen and said, “Oh, hi Barry. Barry, this is my sister, Catori. Catori, this is Barry Buchannon.”
Barry risked looking at Catori and said, “Pleased to meet you.”
She was tall, maybe a couple of inches below his height, with bronze skin and black hair tied back. He couldn’t really tell much else because she was dressed in loose jeans and a flannel shirt, but he could see the possibility of a centerfold quality body. And Catori had an ebullient personality like she has never met a stranger in her life.
“Well, Barry, Fala sure didn’t exaggerate when she told me about you,” Catori said, shaking his hand. “She told me that you were tall, dark, and handsome. She is an honest woman and didn’t lie. I think that you sure are just what I hear the younger women call ‘yummy’.”
Barry blushed, which normally would look ridiculous on the rugged man, but Catori thought it was cute.
“Thanks, I guess.” Barry mumbled.
Fala pulled the cornbread sticks out of the oven and Seán handed a stack of bowls to Catori. Placing the bread sticks in a warming basket, Fala placed the basket on the table. Seán picked up the pot of chili and Fala got out a ladle and a trivet for the pot and placed them on the table. Everyone dished their own chili and began to eat as Seán sat bottles of beer out for each person, except for Catori, she stuck with the cider.
After lunch, Fala and Catori did the dishes while Seán and Barry brought in wood to fill the woodbox. The women later found the two men in the reloading room, reloading 5.56mm ammo.
Fala asked Barry to bring Catori’s luggage in and place it in the guest room. From that moment on, for the rest of the evening, they were never more than two feet apart. Seán and Fala left shortly after and went for a walk down to the river.
“What are you doing?” Seán asked Fala.
“Giving them some space. Catori has needed someone like Barry for a long time. If it wasn’t me, it would be Aunt Maggie doing the manipulation." Seán kept his mouth shut after that. Barry could fight his own battles, or surrender.
As Seán and Fala re-entered the house, he suddenly felt a sense of disequilibrium as they felt the house sway a bit.
Catori came out of the family room and asked, “Have ya’ll felt those lately up here?”
“Yeah, it’s just aftershocks from New Madrid.” Seán said.
Catori and Barry stayed up when Fala and Seán went to bed that night. They sat there on the couch getting acquainted in the speed mode.
“What do you think has been your greatest disappointment in life?” Catori asked Barry.
“When I found out Buffy Sainte-Marie wasn’t a true Cree Indian.” Barry said softly.
Catori smiled. “My name is Catori, I am a true member of the Cherokee Tribe, born into the Eastern Band of the Cherokee. Will I do?”
Barry almost shot wine out through his nose. “This woman doesn’t take any shortcuts.” Barry thought.
They both fell asleep, leaning on each other. Around 0130, Fala got up to get a drink of water and checked on them. Fala softly walked into the family room and gently squeezed Catori’s knee. Her eyes snapped open and saw Fala. Fala walked silently back to her bedroom while the two woke up.
“I’m sorry I bored you to sleep,” Barry said.
Catori giggled. “You didn’t! I just feel so safe and comfortable around you.”
“Yeah, I’m comfortable with you too,” Barry said. “I’d better get going and let you get some rest.”
“I’ll see you later,” Catori said.
“You bet!” Barry said, locking and closing the door behind him.
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Post by gipsy on Nov 1, 2023 10:39:52 GMT -6
Fine updates Thanks
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Post by ncsfsgm on Nov 4, 2023 10:42:34 GMT -6
Chapter 19
It was a little over 500 meter walk back to the Pangea, but at no point did Barry feel his feet ever touch the ground. He wasn’t about to get more involved though, until he found out more.
Barry woke as the temperature changed just before dawn. Closing the windows, which he had left open during the night, he turned the heat up a bit, he put the kettle on for his coffee, and started his morning ritual. After showering and shaving, Barry made a cup of coffee and put some bacon in the convection oven to cook. Before scrambling the eggs, Barry picked up his phone and made a call to launch a background investigation.
Fala was frying ham when Catori came into the kitchen. Fala looked over her shoulder and asked, “Barry go back to the RV last night?”
“Of course, he did!” Catori said brusquely. “I don’t do that on the first date and besides, I wouldn’t want to wake you two.”
“Oh? So, you’re a screamer?” Fala asked, grinning.
“Leave me alone!” Catori said, pouring a cup of coffee.
“What’s going on in here?” Seán asked as he walked in.
“Fala is teasing me!” Catori said. “Seán, what does Barry do for a living?”
“Well, he was my team medic when we served together, he got out and got his Physician’s Assistant degree. I think right now he’s considering taking a correspondence course in Gynecology.”
“Will you two stop it!” Catori said, her eyes flashing.
After breakfast, Seán took Barry to look for a construction company to arrange to get the land cleared, and maybe to find a vehicle to buy. They asked around Jefferson and West Jefferson and finally got the name and location of someone who might be able to do the work. Larry Owens spoke to them and said he’d need to come out and look at the property to see what equipment he would need. He had only one lowboy trailer to haul equipment. They set up a time for the next morning and since Larry had a GPS, Barry gave Larry the coordinates of the driveway entrance to Seán’s property. He didn’t want to use the old entrance and wanted to improve what looked like an old logging road to the top of the ridge. They even found Barry a vehicle Barry liked, a 2019 Chevrolet Suburban 1500 LT 4WD with 60,000 miles on it. They managed to get it registered before they went home. Barry used Seán’s address to register it but went by the Grassy Creek post office to make sure his mail would go to Seán’s address for now. He would make a change of address once he was set up on his property.
Seán woke up early the next morning, put on a pot of coffee, and walked out onto the back porch. Looking down toward the river, Seán spotted a buck nosing around under a persimmon tree down beside an old stock pen next to the road. Seán quickly went inside, Took the Remington 700 out of the gun case, picked up two rounds and went back out on the porch. Loading a round, Seán used the rail as support and centered the scope ring on the deer. Seán steadied, let out half a breath and slowly squeezed the trigger. The buck jumped, twirled toward the wooded slope, made two bounds, and collapsed. Seán put the rifle away, waited for the coffee to perk, slid the pot over to a cooler part of the stove top, and went to get the Gator. Seán drove down to the deer and loaded it up, hanging the deer’s head off the back, and slit its throat to bleed out. He parked the Gator on the grass beside the house so he wouldn’t get blood on the driveway and went to get a cup of coffee.
Barry came down after breakfast and helped Seán dress the deer and cut it up. Fala brought out pans for the meat and began preparing it for freezing, saving the backstrap for supper that evening. They washed up as much as they could at the spigot and went inside to finish cleaning up. Catori was standing in the kitchen doorway when they came into the house.
Her raven black hair hung loosely over her shoulders and softly framed those sparkling brown eyes of hers. The fabric of her off the shoulders scoop-necked blouse showed just the right amount of cleavage and hugged her every curve like a formula one at Indy. The suede pants looked like they had been painted on her. She literally took Barry’s breath away. Quickly, he went into the bathroom downstairs and washed up with soap.
After supper, Seán and Barry went out to the fire pit with their drinks. After getting the fire started, they sat and stared at the flickering fire, drinking their whiskey.
“Barry, what happened with Greg that day?”
“Seán, there wasn’t anything anyone could do. He caught one right under the helmet. He was dead before he hit the ground. The CO let me escort the body home and I stayed for the funeral. They buried him next to his parents. His wife said she didn't want him to be alone. I laid his beret on his grave. Sherry didn't want to know how he died, only that he didn't suffer. It was the hardest two hours of my life. We didn't heal each other's open wounds that morning. We only grieved the loss of someone special together."
The flickering firelight illuminated the tears running down Seán’s face. He closed off one nostril at a time and blew the snot out of his nose into the fire and wiped his nose with his sleeve.
“I’m sorry….I’m sorry I couldn’t have done more.” Seán said.
“Nothing you could have done Seán. We were glued, screwed, and tattooed from the first RPG. The TACP and the ANG pulled our asses out of the fire that day.”
Barry took his and Seán’s cups and headed inside to refill them. Fala was standing behind the screen door, watching Seán at the fire.
“Is he all right?” She asked. “Is it P.T.S.D.?”
“Yeah, He’ll be fine. He is suffering a little with the stress of long ago, but he is strong. He’ll be fine after a little more of Grandpa’s best and a good night’s rest.” Barry said solemnly.
“What about tomorrow?” Catori asked.
Grimly, Barry said, “No one ever really forgets. We're only kidding ourselves if we think we do. It's how we react to those horrible memories that make us who we are. The demons won’t ever be completely gone, but he is strong enough to put them to rest.”
They sat at the fire for another hour, talking about what Barry wanted to do on his property when Seán stretched and said he needed to turn in. He and Barry went to the house and Fala and Catori met them at the door and took their cups. Catori placed the cups in the kitchen sink and followed Barry back out on the porch.
“I’d better go get some sleep too,” Barry said.
“Wait, let me get my jacket. I’ll walk you back,” Catori said.
The next morning Barry slowly slipped out of bed; he quietly slipped on a robe and went into the kitchen area. His plan was to bring her breakfast in bed, but she foiled his plot with her presence while he was still scrambling the eggs. He caught an image out of the corner of his eye and turned his head; she was standing there with her hand on the ladder wearing a smile and his unbuttoned flannel shirt from the night before; Barry felt his Adam's apple as he swallowed hard.
"I hope you don't mind, I didn't bring a robe," Catori said softly, raising the temperature in the Pangea by several degrees.
"There isn't a male in this world or any other, that would mind seeing you dressed like that," Barry stammered. Catori walked slowly up to and behind Barry; he grinned from ear to ear as she put her arms around his chest and laid her head against his back. It had been a long time since he had that kind of affection. Barry almost burned the eggs watching her cute little butt as she gathered up her clothes to take a shower.
After they’d eaten and cleaned the dishes, Barry took a shower, got dressed, and they went for a walk.
“You haven’t broken any hearts along your travels?” Catori asked.
“No, but there was a secretary at XVIII Airborne Corps Headquarters at Ft. Bragg. We dated for several months, and I loved Susan with my whole heart and soul. I was on the verge of asking her to marry me when I found out she was seeing a Major at the headquarters on the side. True to life, A Major’s pay trumps a Sergeant First Class’s pay any day of the week. I haven’t dated anyone since."
“Did she hurt you that bad?”
“For a while. I woke up the next morning and tried to open my eyes, but they were so caked with dried tears it was difficult to do. I had to run warm water to separate my eyelashes to see. I swore I’d never do that again for any woman. I had slept for hours; completely drained emotionally and didn't even realize it. I took a shower, trying to wash some of my misery away but no such luck. I emptied of all of my things from our apartment, and never saw or talked to her again. It was probably just as well. She would probably have divorced me down the road. There are a lot of divorces in Special Forces. I saw several couples split up. If they thought that they got screwed while they were married it was a total screw job in the divorces."
“I’m sorry.”
Barry shrugged. “I got over it, but I never let myself get close to another woman again…until you. I still can't believe I have found a woman like you,"
“Well, I’ll never hurt you,” Catori said.
“Don’t promise that. Couples at one time or another hurt each other, even if they don’t mean to. If you ever decide you don’t want to be with me anymore, please give me a warning.” Barry said.
“If I start having any doubts, I promise to talk to you, but I don’t see that happening. I feel too close to you.”
“Still, a warning would be nice. I don’t like to feel blindsided.” Barry replied.
Catori leaned in and kissed him on the ear. “This is the only blindside you’re going to get from me.”
“I can live with that,” Barry said, grinning.
They were wiping their boots on the rug on the front porch when Fala opened the door.
“There you are! I thought you might be out with Barry.”
Catori and Barry walked into the house and the three headed to the kitchen.
“Have you had breakfast yet?” Fala asked.
Catori blushed and said, “Yes.”
Fala suppressed a smile and loaded the dishwasher.
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Post by cashless1 on Nov 4, 2023 12:44:43 GMT -6
getting good'
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Post by gipsy on Nov 4, 2023 13:26:44 GMT -6
Fine update. Thanks
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Post by feralferret on Nov 5, 2023 1:52:58 GMT -6
Ncsfsgm, wonderful chapter. Thank you.
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Post by ydderf on Nov 8, 2023 8:57:11 GMT -6
Thank you Ncsfsgm
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Post by ncsfsgm on Nov 15, 2023 8:10:06 GMT -6
Chapter 20
Seán was up early. He made coffee and was soon joined by Fala. When the coffee perked, they filled their mugs and took them out on the back porch to watch the sun rise. Seán rocked slowly in the rocking chair and occasionally looked at Fala.
“Not only is she physically beautiful, but she is also very smart, resourceful, and she has a ton of common sense, and she's not afraid to use it,” Seán thought.
“I will miss you when you have to return to Cherokee,” Seán said. “You belong here.”
“I feel at ease here in next to the river,” Fala said.
“Fala, you look so happy and content while we sit here watching the sun come up over the river, burning the fog off. I don't know what I would do without you in my life. Since you have come into my life, I feel so complete."
“And I feel incomplete when we are apart Seán. I feel content and complete when I am with you also. I’d love to be with you anywhere, but especially I feel that way here in your home with you."
“Then make this your home too. Will you marry me?” Seán asked.
Fala put her mug on a side table, knelt beside Seán’s chair and kissed him. “It is what my heart has been wishing for…to be your wife.”
Seán chuckled with happiness.
“The way Catori and Barry are getting along, we might have to have a double wedding,” Fala said. “But she is feeling her way along. She recently ended a long relationship with a man who wasn’t honorable. People tried to tell her, but she refused to listen and got hurt in the process. I think she will take it slower to make sure. I don’t want to wait for her stars to get in order.”
“Getting lost in stupidity is easy, but getting back to reality is hard on a person," Seán said. “I swear to you Barry is an honorable man and would hurt himself before he would hurt her. They do make a good couple.”
Fala smiled. “Like we do. I have given it some thought before. I could live and work here and only go to the village when necessary. Sally and the others are skilled enough to do a lot of the work now.”
“I could fly you down and back so we wouldn’t be apart so much, and you wouldn’t have to make that long drive.” Seán said.
“I would like that. I need to talk to Sally, then I will make breakfast,” Fala said.
Barry and Catori came in a few minutes later, and Catori helped Fala finish breakfast. Barry found Seán in the reloading room going over all the guns.
“Wow! You’ve got quite the collection!” Barry said.
“Si vis pacem, para bellum.” Seán said, grinning.
“Well, you are well on your way.” Barry said.
Emmit arrived with the 715 the next morning with a grin on his face. Fala and Catori had gone to West Jefferson to get some herbs.
“A dude down the hill told me to come on up.” Emmit said. “Man, you are really out in the sticks, and there aren’t many high-speed avenues of approach!”
Seán came off the porch and shook Emmit’s hand. “You managed to find the place well enough. Must have smelled the food cooking.”
Emmit wrinkled his brow. “Now that you mention it, my stomach is beginning to growl. I didn’t stop for anything on the way up.”
“Then let’s unload the Jeep and I’ve got fresh-caught trout ready to pan fry, German potato salad, and a wedge of iceberg with Dill dressing.” Seán said.
Emmit grinned and began unstrapping the wheels and removing the chocks.
After the 715 was on the ground, Seán backed it into a garage bay. They went into the house and Seán added a couple of pieces of wood to the cookstove firebox and set the 12-inch iron skillet on the stovetop.
“Go get your bag and I’ll have a cold ale waiting for you when you get back.” Seán told Emmit.
When Emmit got back, he unzipped his jacket to remove it and Seán commented on the shoulder holster, “You got the crown jewels hidden in the 715?”
“Partner, you’d be surprised the things people will steal in Cumberland County to get drug money.” Emmit said, frowning.
Seán placed his hand near the pan surface to check the temperature then added oil. He unwrapped the plastic from the platter of fresh fish and gently laid the three fish in the pan, laying a couple of lemon slices on each fish. Seán got three ales out of the fridge and set them on the table. They each opened one and clinked the bottle necks together. As they took their first swallow, Barry walked through the door. Emmit jumped up and yelled “DOC!”
Seán turned to the stove and gently turned the fish over.
“Why didn’t you tell me Doc was here?” Emmit asked Seán.
“Didn’t think it would matter, you’d be glad to see him anyway.”
“What’s with the hardware EM?” Barry asked.
“I think he was afraid he would get gang-raped by prison farm escapees,” Seán said, grinning, humming the Dueling Banjos tune.
“No! Not Emmit! He wouldn’t have fought them off!” Barry said laughing and slapping his knee.
Emmit gave both men a single-finger salute. “You two can make fun all you want. I’ve run off too many drug addicts looking at me as an easy mark. Just last week an elderly couple in Eastover were killed and their house ransacked. You two should be taking care too. Someone could sneak in here, kill you all and no one would know for a week.”
“Just pulling your leg, Emmit,” Seán said, lifting up his shirt and showing him the IWB holster, “It pays to stay alert.”
“You best, driving here I saw that river and these mountains and could only think about Ned Beatty in that movie ‘Deliverance’, squealing like a pig.”
Barry burst out laughing again.
Seán Flipped the trout and replaced the lemon slices on top. He got out three plates, the potato salad and wedges of lettuce, and set them all on the table. Reaching back into the fridge, he took out the cruet of dill dressing and set it on the table. After Seán plated the fish, the men fill the remaining space with potato salad and lettuce wedges.
“Man! You’ve become a regular Julia Childs!” Emmit said, tasting the food.
“We don’t go hungry back in these hills.” Seán said.
After lunch, the three men sat in the family room with cups of whiskey, to help with digestion.
“This is good stuff!” Emmit said.
“Homemade by my grandfather, or maybe my father. Things got kind of mixed up. By the age, I suspect it was made by my grandfather.”
“Well, it’s good, no matter who made it.”
“I’ll have you a keg to take back with you.” Seán said.
“I’m all for that!” Emmit replied.
Seán got up. “Come on, let’s go.”
Emmit and Barry followed Seán out and got into the Gator UTV. Seán drove them up to the cave and showed them in.
“Hey, this is kick ass!” Emmit said. You have your own mini bunker.”
“Not any route to egress so I’ll just keep it as an aging cellar,” Seán said, picking up a 3-gallon keg that was marked as being put up 1993.
“Here’s a keg of 30-year-old whiskey for you.” Seán said.
They killed time looking around until Barry asked, “Why did they put up a wooden wall in here?”
Emmit inspected the wall and tapped on it in a few places. “Guys, I think this is a false wall. It is attached at regular intervals with rock bolts until it gets to here. There may be another room behind this wall. Do you have a crowbar?”
“Don’t be too hasty” Barry said. “Let’s try to figure out how it is built and attached first, instead of just tearing it out.”
Barry picked up an ash mallet off of a shelf and asked Seán, “What is this?"
“A bungstart mallet. You can use it to tap a bung into a barrel, but the primary function is to hit the barrel stave that has the bunghole. The flexible handle causes the stave to vibrate and breaks the seal on the bung, making it easy to remove. Looking at the handle, Barry asked, “And what is this for?”, pointing to metal hexagon sleeve that went all the way through the lower part of the mallet handle.
Seán looked at the handle. “I don’t know. It looks almost like….”
Seán carried the mallet over to the wooden wall and inspected the rock bolts holding the wooden wall. He fit the hexagon sleeve over the closest bolthead to the door and gave it a counterclockwise turn. They all heard the faint click and part of the wall popped out. Emmit pulled the door open and the light from the lantern showed more wooden barrels stacked on racks inside.
Taking one of the lanterns into the space, Emmit exclaimed, “Jesus Seán! You’ve got enough whiskey here to get Napolean’s army drunk!” By rough count, there were around 75 wooden barrels. Seán walked over to a rack and stretched his arm out, measuring the width of the drumhead. “This whiskey may have been made, or at least put in these barrels prior to World War II.” Seán said.
“Why do you say that?” Barry asked.
“Prior to WWII whiskey barrels were a standard 43 gallons, which these are,” Seán said. “When the war started, they had to conserve materials, so they changed the shape of the barrels, and they could get an extra five gallons into each barrel for about the same amount of wood.” Sean wrestled a firkin (which holds about ¼ of a barrel) off a rack and handed it to Emmit. “Here’s 36 fifths for us to try.”
When they got back to the house from touring the rest of the farm and Barry’s new place, Fala was finishing up a venison stew and told Seán he had time for a beer and a shower before supper. Catori and Barry were coming to eat with them.
“Don’t dawdle, though. I’m making the fry bread now and when it’s done we’re gonna eat!” Fala said, slapping Seán on the butt as he turned to go wash up.
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Post by gipsy on Nov 15, 2023 10:13:02 GMT -6
Thanks for the update
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Post by 223shootersc on Nov 15, 2023 12:30:00 GMT -6
Eighty year old whiskey! Yum!!
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Post by ncsfsgm on Dec 5, 2023 16:52:12 GMT -6
Chapter 21
When the meal was over, with the temperature outside in the high 50s, but foggy, Seán tapped the firkin, and they took their drinks out to the fire pit.
“This is really good whiskey, Seán!” Emmit said. “That’s top-shelf stuff."
“How much do you think a barrel is worth?” Seán asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Emmit said.
“Enough to trade you for that M151 you’re working on?” Seán asked.
“Well, that’s a M151A2.” Emmit said. “That’s the model that they changed the rear end on to prevent rollovers. I’ve even got the ROPS kit for it if someone wants it installed. Hell yeah! I’ll trade you it for a full barrel of the good stuff!”
“Said and done,” Seán said.
“What is ROPS?” Barry asked.
“Roll over Protection System; think roll bars.” Emmit replied.
“So, when are they going to be finished clearing your property, Doc?” Emmit asked.
“They’ll have everything leveled and debris removed by next Friday.” Barry replied.
“Man, this area is so peaceful. I’d give my left nut to find some property up here I could have a setup like I have in Eureka Springs.” Emmit said.
“Take a ride with me tomorrow, Emmit. I may know of a place that will fit you like a glove.” Seán grinned.
“Close by here?” Emmit asked.
“A damn site closer than Eureka Springs!” Seán said. “It’s only six miles by road from here.”
Seán called Janet Barnes, the realtor who had the property listed, and made an appointment with her to meet at the property at 10:00 the next morning.
Barry wanted to tag along but he was meeting with contractors that morning. As they were heading to Crumpler, Emmit sighed and said. “If this doesn’t work out, I want to keep looking. This area is so beautiful and peaceful.”
The six-mile trip didn’t take that long and as they crossed the north fork of the New River, they were there. Seán pulled into the 100-meter driveway and parked beside Janet’s Bronco. They were parked in front of a General Steel 4-bay garage. Emmit’s eyes lit up like the landing lights on a 737, and was nervously excited as Janet unlocked the entrance door. As they were walking through the building, Emmit was almost hyperventilating. The last two bays even had a lift and one a pit.
“Why would anyone want to get rid of a place like this?!” Emmit exclaimed.
“Jim Blevins, the previous owner, died here in the shop of a heart attack.” Janet said. "The family divided up 700 acres. This parcel is 55 acres. If you want more land I’m sure they would sell you adjoining acreage. The main house is a single story two-bedroom with garage, there is a rental house, presently occupied, just down the road, there is a barn and a shed that doubles as an equipment shed and a small greenhouse. The land was fenced for cattle. Jim used to keep some beef cattle and a donkey. They looked at the house and it was similar to the one he had in Eureka Springs. Emmit tended an offer and they drove back to the Bend. They cracked open some of the “good stuff” and built a fire in the pit. “I can’t believe my luck!” Emmit said.
“Well, your offer hasn’t been accepted yet, Emmit," Seán said.
“I’m still celebrating. I’ll outbid any other offers!” Emmit replied.
“If you need any help on the finances, I can help you out.”
“Thanks, but I don’t need it,” Emmit said. “Being alone, I don’t spend much, and you wouldn’t believe what I’ve sold some of my restorations for. Hell, I can throw down cash for that place. I won’t need a mortgage and when my place sells in Eureka Springs, I’ll come out about even and probably even have enough to put in a paint booth in the new place.”
Barry came down to join them and they talked about what he had accomplished that day. The excavator would arrive the next day to dig the basement. They would be ready to begin putting together the insulated concrete forms by the end of the week.
While the men sipped their whiskey and talked, Fala and Catori prepared supper. When it was ready, they went out to the fire pit to retrieve the men. Emmit sighed when he watched the two women in the firelight, enticing the Doc and Seán into the house. He hoped there were more women like that available up here.
Emmit and Seán were up early drinking coffee when Janet called. The sellers had accepted his offer on the Crumpler property, and she wanted to meet with him in her office in Jefferson that morning, if it was convenient. Seán gave him a thumbs-up and Emmit agreed he would meet with her at 10:00. Emmit was beside himself.
Fala came in and fixed breakfast. Seán didn’t bother calling Barry because he knew Barry would be up at the excavation site. Soon after breakfast, the two men left for Jefferson to see Janet.
Janet briefed Emmit on the steps they needed to take. While Janet began working with the real estate attorney, they began putting together the packet, while Seán took Emmit to the same bank he used and Emmit established an account. With a couple of phone calls, Emmit had the funds transferred from PNC in Fayetteville to his new account. The bank cut him a certified check and they went back to Janet’s business office. Janet set up a meeting for the closing early Thursday with the seller’s attorney, who had to come from Charlotte. Emmit and Seán returned to the Bend.
When they returned, Emmit sat down and began planning his move. He would need to move project vehicles to his new home and pack up all his spare parts and tools.
“Hey! Do you still have that storage unit down in Fayetteville?” Emmit asked Seán.
“Yeah, I still pay on it but haven’t put anything in it since just before we’d deployed for that last time.” Seán said.
When Barak Obama had been elected, Seán had paid particular attention to that election. Soldiers usually remained apolitical if for nothing else, to maintain their sanity. Seán had read through the bullshit and started buying guns and ammo. Reading the Marxist path the country was heading out on, Seán knew the Democrats would go for the guns, and if that didn’t work, they’d limit the ammo you could get. They had passed an Assault Weapons ban once before, and Sean bought up a lot of weapons he wanted to have. The 10’x20’ storage unit in a climate-controlled facility was stacked to the ceiling with boxes and cans of bulk ammo of all calibers for the weapons he had and planned to have. He even had 50,000 rounds of .22 magnum, a caliber that wasn’t that popular. He had the rifles and revolvers but had been waiting for someone to develop a decent semi-automatic pistol.
“Well, if you want, I could haul the contents up with my stuff, unless you want to keep on paying for the unit.” Emmit said.
“Let me think about it,” Seán said.
Seán left Emmit to his devices, and he and Fala rode their Rokons up to Barry’s construction site. The main part of the excavation was done, and a small skid steer was doing final cleanup. They saw Barry up by a large flatbed that workers were off-loading pallets of ICF blocks from. They rode up to Barry and shut the bikes down.
“Looks like you got off to a good start,” Seán said.
“These guys are quick,” Barry said, nodding.
“How soon will you begin laying block?” Seán asked.
“They’ll dig the wall foundations, lay rebar, and get the floor and foundations poured. As long as the weather holds, they should start the blocks on Saturday morning or the following Monday.” Barry said.
“Moving right along!” Seán said.
Barry walked them around showing where he would be putting up the buildings.
“I’m even having them build a porte-cochère between the garage and the house,” Barry said. “After seeing how helpful yours is during inclement weather, it only makes sense. How much snow do you get up here in the winter?”
“It depends.” Seán said. “Lately, it seems they are getting more here each year, so a porte-cochère will come in handy.”
“How competent are they on clearing the roads here?” Barry asked.
“Ashe County has plenty of snow removal equipment. After all, they want to keep the roads open to the ski slopes,” Seán replied. “Got to keep the economy going, you know.”
“Who do you get your propane from?” Barry asked.
“AmeriGas. I’ll give you the contact information. I’ve got three 1500-gallon underground tanks. I won’t run out if they aren’t able to deliver during bad weather.” Seán said.
“Good Idea. You probably don’t have to fill up much,” Barry commented.
“They are scheduled to deliver in late April and late September, unless I call for a delivery.” Seán replied.
“I need to look for some transportation,” Barry said.
“You can go with us to Jefferson Thursday when I take Emmit to the closing. There’s a dealership near Janet’s office that has new and used cars.” Seán said.
“Okay, thanks.” Barry replied.
The next morning, the workers tied rebar and got the basement ready for pouring the floor. Seán took the opportunity to go check out the grouse feeding areas and flushed out five. Every bird he flushed headed straight for the firs to try to get away. It was their usual tactic, so Seán was always ready to swing the gun in the direction. It was almost too easy. He quit trying to take the birds after the fifth one, just swinging his gun and following them. He had enough birds for a meal with Doc, Catori, Emmit, and Fala and left the other birds for later. When he got back to the house he turned the birds over to Fala. She liked to dress the birds herself, saving the feathers and other parts for use by members of the tribe for use in some of the tourist items they made for sale. Fala used certain feathers to enhance decorative appliques on her more elaborate buckskin dresses and tunics she made.
Thursday morning, after checking the first concrete truck that went in to start pumping concrete into the basement, Barry met with Seán and Emmit and they headed for Jefferson.
After dropping Emmit off at Janet’s, Seán stopped and got a dozen beef empanadas and two cups of strong coffee to go at the Havana Café before going to the dealership. It didn’t take Barry long to make his selection. They had a clean 2009 Ford F-150 with the factory-installed snowplow option. Seán and Barry went over the vehicle with a fine-toothed comb and found no rust and no major body damage. Whoever had owned the vehicle had taken excellent care of it. Seán stepped away when Barry started negotiating a price. Doc could talk a mule out of its teeth. When they went inside the dealership, Seán followed just to see the salesman’s face when Doc paid for the truck. While the salesman began putting the paperwork together and they got to the part about financing the truck, Doc loosened his shirt and pulled out a money belt. He began counting $100 bills first and ended up giving the salesman the exact change. Although the dealership would miss out on the interest of a loan, the salesman took the money and had the secretary run the bills through a counting machine twice. Seán poured a cup of the free coffee available to customers and walked out of the glass encased showroom. He saw the truck being driven inside for preparation. A foggy haze had filled in the gaps in the mountains around them as they had been car shopping. Despite the smokey haze, the air was fresh and clean with only a hint of woodsmoke now and again. It still beat the smell of the Washington area any day. Seán finished his coffee, crumpled up the paper cup and threw it in a receptacle next to the door, and went back in. He saw Barry stand, shake the salesman’s and Sales Manager’s hands, and was handed a bag of dealership swag. The truck was driven up, with the snowplow blade loaded in the bed. Barry and Seán got in their trucks and headed back to Janet’s office. Emmit was waiting for them, drinking coffee, and talking with Janet. He shook hands with Janet and the men left to head back to the Bend.
Emmit rode back with Doc so he could listen to the engine.
“This is a good truck,” Emmit said. “The engine sounds nice. You can’t go wrong with the factory-installed plow. I’ve got a 1952 Dodge M37 back at the shop with a snowplow that I haven’t started on yet because I don’t have a lot of use for a plow in Eureka Springs. I’m glad I didn’t get rid of it. As soon as I finish Seán’s 151 I’ll start on the M37 to use up here.”
When they got back to the Bend, Emmit announced he would be heading back to Cumberland County the next morning, but he wanted to take another look at the place. Seán tossed his keys to Emmit and punched up the location on the GPS for him.
As Emmit drove to Crumpler, he was thinking of the first things he needed to do once he got back to Eureka Springs. He needed to get members of his auto club together to help him pack up his garage while he replaced the transmission in his Dodge Power Wagon with an RH47 3 speed overdrive transmission. He had bought the Power Wagon from a soldier who had been stationed on Ft. Bragg who had bought the truck in Arizona. It was nicely done, but the new transmission would give it a smoother ride at highway speeds. Emmit figured he would be driving a lot more in the mountains than he did in Eureka Springs.
Seán drew cups of whiskey and he and Doc went out to the fire pit.
“Well, what else do you have on your plate?” Seán asked.
“Well, the capped well turned out to be good, so I just need to get a septic tank put in. The company is coming tomorrow to get that done. The contractor is pouring me an RV pad and the plumbers are going to connect everything up for me so I can move the Pangea up next week.” Doc said.
“Well, looks like you’ll be busy,” Seán said. “Do you need help unloading the blade? I’ve got pallet forks for the tractor.”
“Yeah. I’d appreciate the help.”
They finished their drinks and installed the forks on the tractor and went to unload the snowplow blade from the back of the pickup.
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Post by gipsy on Dec 5, 2023 17:54:56 GMT -6
Fine update thanks
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Post by iamnobody on Dec 5, 2023 18:41:37 GMT -6
I think I just went into diabetic ammobetic shock at the mental image of all that ammo. 10' x 20' by 6' high! Maybe with just a path down the center wide enough for a hand dolly.
I'm drooling worse than a baby cutting teeth. How am I supposed to sleep tonight?
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Post by techsar on Dec 5, 2023 21:09:03 GMT -6
How am I supposed to sleep tonight?
Count rounds? I wouldn't mind having a bit more .22 WMR myself.
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Post by ncsfsgm on Dec 11, 2023 11:00:08 GMT -6
Chapter 22
Fala and Seán were up early the next morning to prepare breakfast for everyone before Emmit left to return to Eureka Springs. Catori was soon down helping Fala followed by Doc. Seán filled the coffee carafe from the percolator and made another pot of coffee. Emmit was showering, packing his bag, and getting it loaded in the truck. By 0900 with a freshly filled coffee travel mug, Emmit was on his way to I-77.
As they waved at Emmit heading out to the road, Doc asked Seán, “Okay, what’s the deal? You’ve enticed me and now Emmit up here, but what is your plan?”
“Doc, I’m playing this by ear,” Seán replied. “As usual, the government is protected by a bodyguard of lies and none of us know what is really going on. Things are going on that seem to me to be the fall of this country. I’d just like to have people around me I can trust. I plan on bunkering down and preparing for whatever the government gets us into. By what I am seeing, we’re heading into a recession or at worst a depression that will have the U.S. weaker in the eyes of the world. There are rogue states out there that might think it would be an opportune time to strike back at us for their perceived grievances. I want to prepare for a possible collapse of the economy, nuclear, biological, or bio attack, or even invasion.”
“That’s going to take a lot of work and money, partner.” Doc said.
“I’ve got some funds and some outside contacts that are willing to help,” Seán replied. “Right now, you need to fixate on getting your place prepared. I’ll work on the other stuff for now.”
Soon after returning to the Bend, Seán had ordered radon detection monitors that could be monitored over the WI-FI. He had placed one in the basement and behind the second door in the basement cold room. The cold room’s first door was the entrance but the second door, hidden behind a shelf on the north wall of the cold room, hid the entrance to the cave system that ran northwest under the 2,600-foot ridge. There was a partial map of the cave system somewhere in the files showing some large chambers, each no smaller than 44’ long by 25’ wide, but when he was younger, Seán’s father wouldn’t allow him to explore them. Seán decided to buy more unmonitored detection kits to put in the chambers, hoping they could be used without any health problems. He went on Amazon and ordered a dozen. There were at least six chambers that he remembered. He wanted to integrate the cave system into his prep plans if he could, and didn’t want to have to rely on a local state-certified radon inspector. While he was at it, Seán ordered a dozen MIRA Safety Dosimeters in case there were any uranium deposits around, in, or near the cave system. Small deposits had been found before in this area of the county. Seán was constantly scribbling notes the more he researched. Some things he needed could be locally purchased, but some things would have to be ordered.
Seán began making a list prioritizing the things he needed to accomplish. First, food for the long term, Second, fuel for the vehicles, cooking, and heating. Cooking and heating fuel was easy. His father had put in a multi-fuel boiler system that pushed warm water through the radiant floor heating system. It could use fuel oil, propane, or wood to fire the boiler. His father had switched to propane years before when it became cheaper than fuel oil. Seán could always use wood as the price of propane was climbing, but he wanted to get more storage for propane if he could to save his trees for emergencies. His normal firewood supplier usually ended the season with a surplus of split firewood, and he could buy his excess before summer.
Seán took a break at 1400 and made a sandwich, and after eating got on his Rokon and went up the ridge to check out the work at Doc’s place. The workers were repositioning the ICF blocks and extra rebar in preparation for starting the basement walls in a couple of days.
Doc had little to do since the workers were only laying out materials and cutting rebar in preparation to start building the basement walls. There was an RV dealer down in Boone he wanted to check out to see if he had any used snowmobiles, so he drove the 40 miles and quickly spotted a couple of snowmobiles but also near them was a Rokon bike. On the spot he decided to get the bike because he remembered Seán saying they didn’t get that much snow that stayed that long. A Rokon with chains would get him around well enough. He only wanted something to ride around his and Seán’s land. He asked the dealer to tune up the bike and fix or replace anything that was the slightest bit ‘iffy’. He’d pick it up on the next afternoon.
Seán gathered up some lights and went down to the cold room. He went to a shelf section on the north wall, pushed on a molding strip and the shelf popped out about 2” from the wall. He pulled the shelf back, revealing the old safe door his grandfather had installed. The vault door had originally come from the old State Bank building that was demolished in Boone back in the 50s. Seán had no idea how they got it here and installed, but his grandfather must have thought it was important. Sean dialed in the combination, which was the date of his grandmother and grandfather’s anniversary, turned the wheel and released the locking pins. The door was perfectly balanced and swung open easily, going down the stairs, checking each step, he didn’t see any rot or moisture. At the bottom of the 15 steps, he turned right to the next safe door. This one was thinner and filled with concrete. Seán’s grandfather had patterned the shelter after Civil Defense plans, but never completed it. Going through the second door, the tunnel went about 25 feet, zigged to the left, and opened into a 40’x30’ chamber. Inside were sleeping areas divided by cables strung from rock bolts in the walls that were possibly used to hang curtains from, separating the sleeping areas. The old mattresses would have to go. In one area were drums of water and cardboard cases stacked up. They must have removed any food that was stored down there but he found in one of the boxes a Civil Defense CD V-777-1 Shelter Radiation Detection Set with a CD V-715 Survey Meter, a CD V-700 Geiger counter, 4 CD V-742 Dosimeters, a CD V-750 Dosimeter Charger, some straps, and a set of Monitoring Headphones. Sean would either have to get the equipment calibrated or buy new equipment. The other boxes held various books he’d have to go through later. On a stand was what looked like a ceramic crock then he read the printing on it; It was stamped in black ink on the front ’Doulton’s Puro Water Filter Lambeth London No 1". It was an original Royal Doulton water filter. Seán decided to take it back upstairs to display and would get a new Berkey for the shelter.
Seán set up a radon detector and followed white marks on the cave wall on down, walked down three steps carved into the rock, and soon came to a heavy door on the right. As Seán tugged the door open his headlamp revealed a large chamber and his light reflected off of what looked like water. Sure enough. It was a spring that was pushing up water into the pool. He’d need to take a sample and get the water tested. But he had plans on how to build a drip filter with 5-gallon buckets and Doulton filters. Seán set up a radon detector inside the chamber and closed the door. Moving on down the cavern Seán found the next chamber that looked to be about 40’x 30’ in diameter. He ran the hand spotlight over the ceiling and it looked solid, with no water dripping or any signs of water collection anywhere on the floor. It might make a good place for storage. Stopping there, Seán decided to make his own map and accurately measure the distances as best he could. It was amazing the cave was as dry as it was until he remembered there was a layer of varying depths of clay above him. The clay probably filled in the rock fissures and basically waterproofed the ground above the cave. Grandpa had a good idea for a cold war shelter, he just didn’t take it far enough.
Emmit torqued down the last bolt on the transmission. He lowered the lift and replaced the transmission oil, watching for leaks. When everything looked good, he got in the truck and drove out of the shop, heading for the 295 bypass. He drove the speed limit up to I-40 and turned around to return to Eureka Springs. Everything was working as he wanted. Emmit cleaned his tools and returned them to the toolbox. Everything else was mostly packed up, his friends came in and made a party of it, but organized the packing so he knew what to unpack first. After banding the toolboxes, Emmit cleaned up a few more loose things and called it a day. One of his friends owned a trucking company and would haul his vehicles up to Crumpler for him in exchange for the body of a 1986 Land Rover Defender 110, a barn find Emmit had bought from a man near Pine Level. He would be ready for the movers to pack everything up Monday, with Murray coming in to move the vehicles on Thursday. He wanted to have his house mostly set up before receiving the vehicles.
Seán went to Home Depot and bought a surveyor’s measuring tape, a measuring wheel, and a 165ft Laser Distance Measure to aid in his cave mapping. He got everything ready for he and Fala to do a mapping survey the next day. He made sure the headlamps had fresh batteries, and had a graph pad with mechanical pencils to do the drawing with. He put the tools aside and went to check on the chickens. Filling the waterer, feed dispenser, and putting out more oyster shells took no time at all. They were now getting eight to twelve eggs a day. It wouldn’t be long until he would have to cull the chickens to make room in the roost. As Seán headed for the house, he glanced down toward the river and saw two coyotes messing around the road by the river. They were probably after roadkill. It was a place raccoons liked to cross. Seán quickened his pace, went into the house, got his Remington 700 ADL out of the gun case, loaded four rounds and went out to the picnic table near the fire pit. Extending the bipod, he flipped up the scope covers and picked out the first coyote. He quickly scanned the road to make sure no vehicles were coming, sighted on a coyote feasting and put a round into it. The coyote flipped in the air and laid still on the ground. He was now buzzard and crow bait and wouldn’t be messing around their chickens. The other coyote started and began running back up the hill to the tree line. Seán worked the bolt and ejected the remaining three rounds from the internal magazine, folded the bipod and took the rifle back into the house. He immediately cleaned the rifle and returned it to the gun cabinet.
Fala called him to supper, and they enjoyed a delicious venison stew and fry bread.
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