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Post by texican on Feb 8, 2021 19:54:13 GMT -6
bret,
Thank you for the kind words.
We, your readers and fans, have enjoyed your writings thru the years even when it was only a little bit here and there.
You bring joy and sadness at times to us and make us think about where we are and where we could possibly be headed.
The comments and banter back and forth between all of us helps us to live a better life and reminiscence of where we have been and where we are going.
Thank you.
Texican....
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Post by bretf on Feb 9, 2021 22:21:15 GMT -6
Chapter 7
When Kevin left work, he watched the bar for a full minute, hoping. Tammy’s words came back to him. I know I haven’t seen you for a while but you’re sure looking good, although a bit disheveled. Losing that extra weight suits you. Well, don’t be a stranger. You know where I work. Oh, how well he knew where she worked and he wanted to go across the street and see if she was there. But he couldn’t. He had the dogs to consider and shopping to do, and hopefully, a decent supper. His stomach growled to emphasize his last thought.
His next inadvertent thought made him admonish himself for being a fool. Maybe Cindy is out there. He mentally berated himself for thinking of her and got in the truck, closing the door much harder than was necessary. Still, the memory of her lying on him, their faces inches apart refused to leave. What is wrong with you, you damn fool? he asked himself. Do you need to go to the city and get some release to get your head back on straight?
The way he drove, it was a good thing he didn’t go to the bar and have a beer. He’d have been pulled over for sure. With his mind in the state it was, he ran a stop sign, a stop he’d made hundreds of time before, as he navigated the truck to the dollar store.
Like too many developments, when the construction of the store began, the lot was cleared. Including the removal of every tree. Luckily, several parking spots were open on the shady side of the building. Kevin judged the track of the sun, and took the spot farthest from other cars he thought would be shaded during his shopping excursion. He left the windows down for ventilation but not low enough Jack and Jill could escape, patted them, and told them he shouldn’t be long.
Kevin went in the store and looked around, shaking his head. For the most part, the store was filled with junk, needless items that weren’t worth the dollar they charged. But after walking the aisles, he found what he was searching for; candles. He picked up several bags of tea candles, then continued to inspect the aisles. More junk, as far as he was concerned. He slowed in the food aisle, perusing the shelves. He shook his head, certain he could get the same items for less at the grocery store. There was nothing else in the store he found that he wanted.
The next stop was the thrift store. He wanted to set out candles for emergency lighting in each room of the house but didn’t want them sitting on combustible surfaces. Too many house fires were caused by errant candles for his taste and he wanted to avoid one. He found several mismatched saucers that would be perfect. He didn’t care that they weren’t a set. It wasn’t like he was trying to impress anyone; he just didn’t want to burn his house down. Since he was already in the store, he wandered around to see if it had anything else he could use. A shelf contained several large tins with tight lids, the kind that was sold full of three flavors of popcorn. They could be used as mouse-proof containers, he thought, so he went to the front for a cart. With all four tins loaded, he continued to look around.
Not far from the shelves where he’d found the popcorn tins, he stopped, not believing his luck. Three boxes of Mason jars. And on the shelf above them was an Aladdin lamp. The lamp needed a wick and he looked at the price tag. He nearly walked on but his memories from earlier in the day came back to him. It was exactly like the one his grandma had.
He closed his eyes and did the math in his head. Yes, he could afford it, and hopefully, new wicks and oil were reasonably priced. Again, he pictured the lamp on his grandma’s shelf, opened his eyes and picked up the lamp.
Once he’d paid and returned to the truck and his ecstatic partners, he contemplated if he was done shopping for the day. The lamp was the deciding factor to make one more stop. It was worthless in its present state. He chuckled at the idea it was worthless. It hadn’t seemed worthless while he was counting out the money to pay for it. But it was true, it was a worthless piece of decorative glass and brass in its current state.
He’d make one more stop, a quick check of the farm store to see if they had wicks and oil. He chuckled to himself at his foolishness. The lamp wasn’t the only thing currently worthless. He didn’t even have matches to light the candles. Raising his eyebrows and frowning, he looked at the dogs and shook his head. Jill took it as an invitation and gave him a slurpy across the face.
Unlike the dollar store, the farm store had stood in the same location for decades. Several mature shade trees towered over the parking lot and he had his choice of spots where the truck, and more importantly, Jack and Jill, would be shaded. “Okay guys, this is the last stop, then we’ll head home,” he told them. “Promise.”
The store did have a section with lighting options; gas lanterns and fuel, hurricane lanterns, wicks, oil, kerosene, flashlights, batteries, and solar lights. He was intrigued by the solar lights but figured he’d research them online first. To be sure he’d check out the right product and compare prices accurately online, he shot photos of their specs and prices.
The fuel confused him with the kerosene and lamp oil together. He didn’t know if they were interchangeable or if one was preferred over the other, or why it would be. More research to do. So he only got a three-pack of kitchen matches, a package of ten lighters, a package of two wicks, batteries for his flashlight, and headed for the checkout stand.
On the way, he walked down an aisle with cages full of cheeping baby chicks. Stopping to read the tags, he was shocked that a baby chick would sell for three dollars. It seemed outrageous but was evidently the prevailing price. While he wanted chickens, after he fox-proofed the hen house and run, he wasn’t sure babies was the right way to go in his case. As he read the tags, he realized the chicks came from a hatchery in the next county. He snapped a picture of a tag as a reminder to give them a call and see if babies were his only option.
Kevin paid and went out to his truck. He smiled, buoyed by the enthusiastic reception his furry friends gave him when he unlocked and opened the door. “Okay, guys, let’s go home and eat,” he said.
Their enthusiasm intensified. Whether from him getting in the truck or because they understood his statement, he couldn’t say.
His drive down the dirt lane leading to his house was a sharp contrast to his morning mad-dash. He drove slowly, appreciating being back in nature, even as branches entered the open window and brushed across his face. As the brush receded from the sides of the lane, he looked to Harvey’s former home; Cindy’s home, he amended in his mind. All was quiet and there were no vehicles to be seen. In spite of his earlier admonishments of himself for being a fool, he was disappointed.
The first order of business was to unload his purchases. The jars and tins were stacked in the opening the stove had sat. He placed the Aladdin lamp, wicks, batteries and matches on the kitchen counter. He’d give them some attention later. The last thing was to lay out a saucer, candle, and lighter in each room.
Kevin fried a pork chop and made a serving of Stove Top Stuffing to go with the salad he’d made from fresh produce from the garden. He placed his plate on the card table and settled into the folding metal chair. Both, like everything else in the house, were thrift store purchases, picked up after Debbie had gutted the place of anything useful. As he ate, he looked at the counter top burner he cooked on. If he started canning, he’d need something more substantial.
Jack and Jill framed him, trying to be patient while he ate. He smiled at them and trimmed a bite of fat and meat off the chop for each of them. They’d get the treats when he was finished. Their demeanor told him they’d rather have the morsels immediately.
After the meal was finished, the dogs had eaten, and the dishes washed, they went outside. While picking the makings for his salad, Kevin had determined nothing needed done in the garden, so he went to his chicken run. The evidence remained of where predators had dug under the wire enclosure to get inside.
How should he go about making it so it wouldn’t happen again? He studied the enclosure and the ground beneath it. Maybe, he could trench beneath the wire mesh and extend new wire into the hole and refill it. Or, lay out an apron of wire on the ground leading up to the run. In his mind, he could see either method working. The problem was, he didn’t have enough wire to accomplish either method. Looking up, he considered the top of the run. Hawks or raccoons could get in from there, so he’d need even more wire to protect any birds he got.
Kevin looked over at Harvey’s, no, Cindy’s place. Maybe Harvey had some wire laying around. Too bad Cindy wasn’t there so he could go ask, and ask if they wanted to part with it. Yeah, right. You just want to ask her if she has any fencing wire to spare. His face burned as he recalled the feel of her lying on top of him.
He shook his head at his foolishness and went to the chicken coop. With work, it could be made safe, but he’d have to close it up in the evenings and open it in the mornings. If he did get chickens, he’d like them to free-range, but only after he and the dogs were home from work. More than once, he’d seen evidence of coyotes or foxes checking out the place while he was gone to work.
The rest of the evening was spent on the chicken coop. While he worked, he wondered if he was wasting his time. Buying the birds, caring for them if he had to start with babies, buying wire to make the run safe. Buying feed. Could he afford it? It wasn’t as if eggs cost a lot at the grocery store. Was it even worth it if he could afford it?
The chilling answer came back to him in a flash. If any of the things he’d read over lunch time came to pass, he’d have to make it work. Looking over at Harvey’s place again, he considered going over and looking around for wire. It was the first time he looked not hoping he’d see Cindy.
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Post by solo on Feb 10, 2021 13:28:48 GMT -6
Don't do it, Kev.... Nothing but trouble at the Harvey place!
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Post by texican on Feb 10, 2021 19:25:58 GMT -6
Don't do it, Kev.... Nothing but trouble at the Harvey place! solo, Remember, Kev is a guy and guys do chit that they shouldn't on a regular basis and suffer the consequences. Kev definitely needs to court Tammy and get laid regularly which will definitely improve his attitude. Thanks bret for the chapter. Texican....
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Post by solo on Feb 11, 2021 10:24:53 GMT -6
Don't do it, Kev.... Nothing but trouble at the Harvey place! solo, Remember, Kev is a guy and guys do chit that they shouldn't on a regular basis and suffer the consequences. Kev definitely needs to court Tammy and get laid regularly which will definitely improve his attitude. Thanks bret for the chapter. Texican.... Yeah, true. I resemble those remarks about guys doing what they should not do. Wonder I made it to past 50.
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Post by bretf on Feb 16, 2021 5:46:56 GMT -6
Chapter 8
Kevin finished up and went to the house. He was happy when the kitchen flared with light from the flick of the wall switch. After a shower, scrubbing the dust and grime off, as well as a thorough tooth-brushing, he went to his bedroom The alarm clock was still flashing so he reset the time and alarm, and settled into bed.
Despite the poor sleep the previous night and the long day, he didn’t fall asleep right away. His mind wouldn’t shut down, filled with thoughts of what he’d read, how stark an existence he lived, and the lack of funds to do much about it. Eventually, exhaustion won out and he slept.
Unlike the previous day, Kevin had a relaxing morning. The alarm went off when it was supposed to and he was able to prepare and eat breakfast, feed Jack and Jill, gather up his dirty laundry, and leave for work early. As he passed the McDonalds, he thought about the previous morning and running into Tammy. He still didn’t have a clue of how he should proceed with her.
After starting the coffee, Kevin went to his office and fired up his computer. Opening his photos folder on the phone, he jotted down notes of what he wanted to research. First would be lamp oil versus kerosene. It certainly wasn’t the most important thing but he wanted the Aladdin lamp in working condition before he accomplished anything else. He couldn’t talk to his grandparents and ask them questions, but he could complete this one thing he remembered from their home.
It took a simple search to find what he wanted. In general, kerosene was more reasonably priced but contained sulfur and other impurities. It would produce unpleasant odors, especially if burned indoors. Lamp oil was pretty much the same thing but was purified to burn cleanly. And of course, it cost more. The cost difference was the deciding factor. While he hoped to never have to burn the lamp out of necessity, the possibility was there, that was why he’d purchased it after all. He figured if it came to it, he could put up with the smell, and wrote kerosene at the top of his shopping list.
The search for the chicken hatchery didn’t provide instant results as he’d hoped. All they listed was a wide variety of chicks available. They wouldn’t open for another hour so he jotted down their phone number to call them when he got a chance.
Kevin went to the coffee maker, switched pots, and started the second brewing. With a full mug, he returned to his office. Following a long drink of the hot liquid, he leaned back in his chair and idly stroked the dogs while he thought about his situation. What next? How do I prioritize? he asked himself. He had no idea so he took another drink and went back to his keyboard.
A banner from his search caught his eye “The Rule of Threes in Survival”, so he clicked on it. The page opened and he read, “You can survive for three minutes without oxygen or in icy water. You can survive three hours without shelter in a harsh environment. You can survive three days without water. You can survive three weeks without food.” The accompanying story stressed to look at your own situation and prioritize what you would need to survive.
Again, Kevin leaned back in his chair, sipped coffee, and stroked the dogs. “Wow. Here I’ve been thinking about light and the garden, storing up food, but according to this, I’ve got other problems to consider.”
He looked at the first item: oxygen and icy water. There was little chance he’d find himself immersed in ice water, so what about lack of oxygen. One thing of interest was a reaction to a bee sting swelling the throat so no air could pass through. Thank God I’m not allergic, he thought. The next item was choking. Makes sense, he mused, and read about dislodging something from your throat if no one was available to help.
He jotted a note on his to-do list: update CPR and first aid training. I’d been several years since he’d taken the class, back when the kids were small and he was terrified of something happening to them.
Other things were a consideration, like a poisonous cloud from a wrecked tanker, either on the highway or the railroad. Thank goodness there were no chemical companies anywhere close. He decided to stick with his plan to update his CPR training and read on.
The three hours of exposure didn’t seem to be a high concern, he had a house after all, but …What would he do if his house burned down, good thing I put the candles on saucers, or he was left exposed by some other means. He opened another tab and saw a story about a “go-bag”. As he read, he didn’t see how he could afford to put a complete bag together. However, several second-hand sports stores had opened the past few years. Maybe, one of them had an affordable backpack, tent, and sleeping bag. He jotted another note on his to-do list. It was doubtful he could buy them right away, not all three anyway, but he could at least do some price shopping.
He clicked back to the original tab and read about three days without water. Again, he had the well, but what if he didn’t have power for it. The first item he saw listed was for a generator. That was totally out of the question; there was no way he could afford one able to run the well pump. He saw hand pumps; those were a possibility, but not until he got his next paycheck.
He continued to search and read. “Now we’re talking,” he told the dogs as he saw a story detailing a “well sleeve”, a “well bucket” and an emergency PVC pipe pump. He continued to read, noticing that the office was coming to life.
“Hey Kevin,” Phil said from his doorway, grinning. “Looks like your alarm clock worked this morning.”
“Yeah, morning, Phil, it did.”
“Well I appreciate you having coffee ready when I came in,” Phil said raising his mug. “Catch ya later.”
Kevin raised his coffee cup in reply and opened another web page. The story talked about rainwater collection. That might work, but only in certain times of the year in his environment. But it would be good to gather materials and get something set up for when they did get precipitation.
Glancing at the time, he sighed and bookmarked the sites he had open before closing the web browser. “Too much to do and too little time,” he told his pals and picked up his mug to refill it before he had to get to work.
#
Midmorning, Kevin had a few minutes to go back online. Rather than open the pages he’d bookmarked, he did a new search. The link that caught his eye and his attention was on the three B’s of prepping. Intrigued, he clicked on the link. It had a whole different set of priorities: Beans, Bullets, and Bandages. He read, filled with confusion. These people stressed food, weapons, and first aid as the top priorities. He wasn’t sure what to think about that.
While he felt food and first aid were definite needs, he saw the wisdom in the little he’d learned in the rule of threes. The two concepts needed to be meshed together to form his personal priority list.
But the bullets; what gave him the right to decide his life was worth more than the next guy’s? He valued life, that’s why his career was helping people, trying to prevent kids from becoming one of those who felt they deserved everything regardless of the costs or consequences. And in his Bible studies, he was more of a New Testament kind of guy, relating to Jesus and forgiveness. Luke 6:29 came immediately to mind: “If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them.”
How would he, a normal man, feel if confronted with killing someone to keep his possessions? Would he kill or be killed? Could he kill? If he did, would he regret it and wish he was dead afterwards? He wasn’t God, judge, or jury.
Too often, he saw selfish behavior in his job and the way it tore families apart. And it was always the kids who suffered most from that behavior. Could he, would he place himself and his needs over those of others? Regardless, it was a moot point. He had little enough money he couldn’t justify spending what he did have on guns. Although, if he got chickens, having a shotgun would be handy in case of predators. But it would have to wait.
He had a sobering thought, comparing the rule of threes and the three B’s. And you can survive from three seconds to three decades from a gunshot wound, depending on where it hit.
Kevin got back to work, his mind troubled.
#
“Hey Janice, are you going to be here during lunch?” Kevin asked.
“Sure am.”
“Can Jack and Jill stay with you so I can go out?”
Janice pursed her lips for a moment before smiling and saying “Of course they can. You know I love these two.” The sour look flashed across her face, gone as soon as it came. “Laundry day?”
“You know it. I’ll take them outside to do their business before I go.”
“Don’t bother. I need to get away from my desk for a bit and I can’t think of a better reason than going out with these guys.”
“Thanks,” Kevin said and headed for the door.
Janice shook her head as she watched him go. Since Debbie left him, taking the washer and dryer with her, Kevin spent lunch period every Wednesday at the laundromat two doors down. She didn’t think she’d be able to hold her tongue if she ever ran into his ex.
Kevin got his laundry bag - a stuffed pillowcase - and his day pack containing his detergent and dryer sheets from the truck. With the pack strapped over one shoulder and the pillowcase over the other, he walked the short distance. It was a beautiful day and he wished he was walking with the dogs instead of going to do his laundry. He shook his head as he thought about solar flares and power outages. He sure couldn’t do his laundry if the big one hit, but then again, would clean clothes be all that important? No, there would be other things more pressing. Someday maybe, but not a priority.
Kevin pushed the door open and stepped inside the laundromat. He froze in place.
The dishwater blonde woman glanced up from her magazine. The glance turned into a long look when she recognized him, complete with a smile. “Fancy meeting you here. This must be my lucky day for the second day in a row. Or, are you stalking me? If you are, I need to know if your motives are pure.”
“Uh, no, un I’m just,” Kevin stammered and held out his pillowcase full of laundry.
Tammy put a hand under her chin and tapped a finger on her cheek. “Oh, right, laundry. Purely a coincidence you showed up while I’m here. And I guess you’ll be a true gentleman and look away when I fold my underwear.”
Kevin turned as red as the shirt she was wearing. He wouldn’t have to watch; the image filled his mind despite his desire to keep it out.
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Post by solo on Feb 16, 2021 11:20:54 GMT -6
"He opened another tab and saw a story about a “go-bag”. As he read, he didn’t see how he could afford to put a complete bag together. However, several second-hand sports stores had opened the past few years. Maybe, one of them had an affordable backpack, tent, and sleeping bag."
Basic bushcraft skill could cover temporary or emergency shelters. As long as the knowledge is there, it should not be a problem. It could be as easy as carrying a $10 Tarp with $10 worth of paracord. Include a couple 3-6 mil Contractor bags, you have a shelter and sleep system for less than $30. It is all about handling the convection and conduction equations for keeping you warm.
For instance, the tarp can be used in many different configurations; best for heat retention is the plow point shelter. Fill your contractor bags with leaves and such and you have a layer of protection from your heat being conducted away from you into the ground. Build a small fire and reflex it into your shelter, you're golden.
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Post by solo on Feb 16, 2021 11:24:35 GMT -6
Add a surplus wool blanket or poncho liner, then you got convective heat lost protection. To make the fire reflector, you can get a folding saw ($10 at Walmart, $20 at Ace hardware) to saw the saplings. The key is having the know how.
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Post by texican on Feb 16, 2021 16:50:32 GMT -6
Bret,
Kev needs to wake up for he likes Tammy and Kev needs to talk to Tammy and go out with her and the rest will follow.
Would even make the prepping easier especially if Tammy is a prepper.
Texican....
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Post by bretf on Feb 22, 2021 6:17:40 GMT -6
SOLO, thanks for the comments, I really appreciate it! Keep them coming!
But, have you been snooping in my hunting pack? I don’t venture into the mountains unless I’m prepared for the “OH-CRAP” moment. Many of the items you listed are in my pack. Luckily, or by God’s Grace, I’ve never used any for survival purposes, although the fire starter kit came in very handy on one sketchy trip.
However, several times, we’ve spread the mylar blankets out and placed chunks of meat on it while we’ve boned elk. The cord to tie a leg to a tree for better angles. Then, the bags (unscented) are packed with meat before going into the backpacks .
Chapter 9
Kevin returned to the office with his pillowcase full of clean, folded laundry. He walked in a fog, not a new sensation since Debbie had blindsided him. But this fog was different. Although caused by a woman, of course, it wasn’t because of Debbie. His strange, exhilarating, surreal time in the laundromat was running through his mind on continuous loop.
#
“So, Kev, embarrassment over my underwear comment aside, how are you? I was concerned when you quit coming into the Watering Hole, but obviously, you made changes for the better. You never seemed comfortable in there.”
“No, I sure wasn’t. I was just … well, killing time.”
“Speaking of killing time, we better get your laundry going.”
Kevin looked startled at the realization his pillowcase was still slung over his shoulder. “Uh, we?”
“This has to be your lunch break so it’s not like you have a lot of time to stand around. At least not until the machines are running. Let me help and we can talk more once these start washing.” Tammy reached up, took the pillowcase, and dumped its contents on the counter. “Okay, it looks like two machines, one for whites and one for dark and colored. You take the darks.”
Tammy took control and had several items in a washer before Kevin snapped out of it, laid his pack down, and started filling a second machine.
Tammy held up a sheet and looked up at him. “You sleep on a double bed?”
“Uh, yeah. It was affordable.” He shrugged and smiled, and then added, “And it was fine for quite a while but it’s pretty tight with Jack and Jill. They don’t leave me much room.”
“What?” Tammy asked, a mix of surprise and outrage. “You share your bed with two other people? A man and a woman?”
“No, no,” Kevin said, laughing. “Jack and Jill are my dogs. I got them not too long ago and they insist on sleeping on the bed. I gave up trying to stop them. They’re more persistent than I am.”
“Whew! You had me worried about you for a bit. And I’ve got to tell you, I’m not into any of that other stuff. I believe in one man, one woman relationships.” She looked at him meaningfully.
Kevin held her gaze for two seconds before he turned his reddening face away from her. Is she suggesting what I think she’s suggesting?
“I’m more of a cat person, but tell me about your dogs.”
Kevin was glad for the change of topic and warmed to the telling as he finished getting the load of laundry started.
Tammy was using one washing machine which finished its cycle while Kevin was talking. She switched her items to a dryer and sat back beside him. “So do you have a place here in town?”
“No, I’m about five miles out. It’s nice and quiet out there and the dogs have lots of room to run and play.”
“That sounds nice, I guess, if you don’t socialize or party much,” Tammy said.
“Humpf, my ex didn’t think it was nice because she did like to socialize. A lot.”
“Ex? So that means you’re divorced and single? And couldn’t she socialize with your neighbors?”
“Yeah, divorced.”
Tammy raised her eyebrows, waiting for more that never came. After a few minutes, she reached out and clasped his hand. “Kev, it’s not uncommon. What is uncommon these days is couples who stay together for the long term.”
It felt like an electric current was shooting from her hand. Kevin didn’t know how to respond, how to comprehend what he was feeling. The washing machine dinged as it finished its cycle, bringing him out of the near-trance her hand had put him in. “Uh, I need to change the laundry to the dryer,” he said.
After switching the load, he checked the time on the second machine, the one with the whites, washing in hot water. The timer showed it had two more minutes. He decided to remain standing for those two minutes. Tammy’s touch had given him a feeling he hadn’t had in years. How to proceed, well, he wasn’t sure. The last time he’d felt that way had been the start of the road to despair.
“Do you need any help, there?” Tammy asked.
“No, I’ve got it. I just thought I’d keep standing until I can switch the second load,” Kevin said.
“Ahh. So you never answered me about neighbors and if your ex socialized with them.”
“Huh, oh yeah. Sorry. So, out where I live, I only had one close neighbor. And he’s gone now.”
Tammy appeared to mull his answer over.
“But I’m getting new neighbors,” Kevin said.
“Oh? Are they nice?” Tammy asked. “So you’ll have someone to talk too and have barbecues with and all those neighborly things?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t met the husband.” He didn’t want to mention Cindy, thinking he might turn red if he brought her up.
Tammy seemed to catch the omission and nodded her head slightly. “Then maybe you need to go over and introduce yourself. Maybe invite them to a barbecue. I’d be happy to help and then I could see your home.”
While Kevin welcomed the idea and the thought of spending more time with her – yes, he decided he did want to spend more time with her - he was hesitant. The way his mind had been addled when he met Cindy, it might not be a good idea to have her and Tammy together. At least not until he figured out where he was going with Tammy. “Thanks for the offer, I appreciate it. But I’m not sure I can work a group barbecue in, not for a while anyway.”
Tammy looked disappointed but said, “All right. But it’s a standing offer if you change your mind.”
Tammy’s dryer finished the cycle and she stood, opened the machine, and pulled the contents into the laundry basket she’d placed on the floor beside it.
She carried the basket to the counter and set it down. Pulling out a pair of underwear, not a thong, Kevin noted, she started to fold it. She turned, not exactly holding the underwear out, but in no way concealing them, said, “Tell you what, you help me fold mine and I’ll help fold yours. That way we’ll both get finished faster.”
Kevin gulped, then stepped to the counter. “Sure, I can do that.” He reached into the basket for a towel, that was innocent enough, and Tammy, having quickly folded the panties and setting them on the counter, reached in as well. Their hands brushed and Kevin felt a charge.
The rest of Kevin’s lunchtime passed in a blur as they worked together, first folding Tammy’s laundry, then his. Several times as they reached for an item, their hands brushed together. They also bumped a few times, causing embarrassed chuckles. With Tammy’s assistance, after declining her offer to carry his laundry to his truck in her basket, he tucked his clean laundry as neatly as possible into the now-washed pillowcase. He’d declined the offer, being sure his items would fare better in the pillowcase when Jack and Jill jumped into the truck for the trip home.
They walked to the door together, and Kevin felt deep disappointment when Tammy went to a Corolla in the parking lot. Even though his office was close, he wouldn’t have minded if Tammy had walked him to the door.
“This was nice, Kev,” she said. “Maybe we can do it again.”
“Uh, yeah. Same place, same time next week, I guess,” he said.
Tammy had set her basket in her car and walked back to him. She reached out and brushed across his hand, her face beaming. “I look forward to it.”
#
Kevin stared at his monitor following his latest appointment, trying to recall what he’d wanted to check out when he had a few free minutes. Buying a grill and briquettes entered his mind as he recalled Tammy’s suggestion, but that wasn’t it. He looked at his note pad and it came to him.
After checking the time to ensure a phone call wouldn’t conflict with his next appointment, he dialed the chicken hatchery. When the call was answered, he said, “I was checking your website and all I saw listed was chicks. I was hoping you might have mature laying hens available.”
“We don’t now, but we will in two weeks,” the woman told him. “The chick season is running down and we always sell hens to keep young brood stock on hand for the next year.”
“Really? So how old are the hens you sell, and what do you charge?”
“They’re a year and a half old, they’ve only produced for the one season. We’ll charge five dollars each this year.”
“Wait a minute. Baby chicks at the feed store are three dollars, but a mature hen is five?” Kevin asked, surprised.
“Yep.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Kevin said.
The woman chuckled and said, “It doesn’t have to make sense but it makes us dollars.”
“Okay, well, I’d do better with grown birds. So, in two weeks, you say?”
“Yep. And let me warn you, a lot of people share your opinion so they go fast.”
“I’d imagine. Can I preorder?” Kevin asked.
“No, sorry, it’s first come first served on the hens,” she said.
“I see, so two weeks from today?”
“Actually, a day less. We’re closed on Mondays, so we’ll start selling them Tuesday.”
Kevin did some quick thinking. The all-but two weeks would give him time to get the pen ready, but he came up with another concern. “What are your hours? Although I guess they’re posted on your website.”
The woman chuckled again, and said, “That’s alright. We’re open until six.”
Kevin jotted the time on his note pad, and said, “Thank you for the information. Hopefully, I’ll be seeing you soon.”
“Thank you, sir. Have a good day,” the woman said and hung up.
Kevin checked the calendar and jotted down the date on his notepad. It would be tight to make it to the hatchery after work unless he left early. He made another note to ask Walt if he could leave an hour early on that day.
Kevin finished his day, called Jack and Jill, and went to his old truck. Out of habit, and wishful thinking, he took time to look at the parking lot and door to The Watering Hole. She wasn’t in sight, so he got in and pulled onto the street. He turned into the farm store parking lot, and got the same spot he had on his last visit. “Be back in a bit, guys,” he said.
Through the afternoon, he’d thought about wire for his chicken pen, Tammy, Cindy, chickens, and Tammy. It wouldn’t be a good idea to see if Harvey had left any rolls of wire laying around, he decided. Not if it meant he’d run into Cindy. But he really wanted to run into her, or even lay beneath her after freeing her from the fence. No, forget about that, you damn fool. She’s young enough to be your daughter, and married!
In the end, he’d decided to check on welded wire at the farm store. It was inexpensive, as far as fencing went, and strong enough to do what he wanted.
Kevin smiled when he saw the price of the welded wire and put a roll he thought would suit his needs on a cart. He pushed it to the aisle where he’d been the previous day and picked up a two-gallon jug of kerosene. As he passed the baby chickens, seeing them pecking away at their feeders, he wondered about chicken food. He hadn’t looked at his for months and he had no idea if he needed more or if mice had found a way into it. Something to check when he got home, he decided.
Kevin paid, went to the truck, and put his purchases in the back. Jack and Jill acted as if they hadn’t seen him for a month, squirming and licking him as he forced his way into the driver’s seat. Despite the effort, Kevin couldn’t help but smile at the reception.
Buoyed by his two pals, his time at the laundromat, and the prospect of getting chickens, Kevin drove for home, happier than he’d been in ages. He turned off the highway onto the narrow lane to his home, and hit the brakes. The good humor he’d had evaporated in an instant.
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Post by sniper69 on Feb 22, 2021 7:36:22 GMT -6
Bret - thanks for the newest chapter to this excellent story. But getting to the end of it, I seem to be grasping on to the cliff, hoping others that read your work will be able to hang on to the cliff as well.
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Post by NCWEBNUT on Feb 22, 2021 8:06:24 GMT -6
Dang cliff hangers, wonder what could remove Kevin's good humor
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Post by solo on Feb 22, 2021 11:42:28 GMT -6
Uh Oh.... Must the be the Ex....
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Post by sniper69 on Feb 22, 2021 12:44:00 GMT -6
Or his house on fire... Or Harveys old place (now Cindy and her husbands) has something going on.... Or..... (only Bret knows).
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Post by texican on Feb 22, 2021 13:25:48 GMT -6
He turned off the highway onto the narrow lane to his home, and hit the brakes. The good humor he’d had evaporated in an instant.
Bret,
Does it again. Leaving the Moar Hounds howling for more.
Is it Cindy with car trouble? Only Bret knows.
Kev has it bad for Tammy and needs to take action sooner than later.
Thanks for the chapter.
Texican....
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Post by solo on Feb 22, 2021 15:33:38 GMT -6
But, have you been snooping in my hunting pack? I don’t venture into the mountains unless I’m prepared for the “OH-CRAP” moment. Many of the items you listed are in my pack. Luckily, or by God’s Grace, I’ve never used any for survival purposes, although the fire starter kit came in very handy on one sketchy trip.However, several times, we’ve spread the mylar blankets out and placed chunks of meat on it while we’ve boned elk. The cord to tie a leg to a tree for better angles. Then, the bags (unscented) are packed with meat before going into the backpacksJust kindred spirits, Brother! V/R, Mike
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Post by papaof2 on Feb 22, 2021 15:45:52 GMT -6
I might be telling tales out of school here, but at the 2018 Dragoncon, one of the kids did a prank page for "Mr. Clifford Hanger".
The guy who answered that page introduced himself as "Bret" ;-)
If you believe that one, I have some future oceanfront property for sale - on the CA-NV state line...
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Post by bluefox2 on Feb 22, 2021 17:40:56 GMT -6
Add a surplus wool blanket or poncho liner, then you got convective heat lost protection. To make the fire reflector, you can get a folding saw ($10 at Walmart, $20 at Ace hardware) to saw the saplings. The key is having the know how. Toss in a couple of rolled up windshield reflective covers. The kind with the silver reflective side. could be used the same way or put under your bag as insulation.
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Post by solo on Feb 23, 2021 10:03:40 GMT -6
Add a surplus wool blanket or poncho liner, then you got convective heat lost protection. To make the fire reflector, you can get a folding saw ($10 at Walmart, $20 at Ace hardware) to saw the saplings. The key is having the know how. Toss in a couple of rolled up windshield reflective covers. The kind with the silver reflective side. could be used the same way or put under your bag as insulation. And they weigh next to nothing!
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Post by bretf on Feb 23, 2021 10:59:01 GMT -6
Toss in a couple of rolled up windshield reflective covers. The kind with the silver reflective side. could be used the same way or put under your bag as insulation. And they weigh next to nothing! And when you're not sleeping on it, use it as a solar cooker.
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Post by bluefox2 on Feb 23, 2021 17:49:20 GMT -6
And they weigh next to nothing! And when you're not sleeping on it, use it as a solar cooker. Or a fire reflector.
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Post by arkansascob on Feb 24, 2021 11:51:32 GMT -6
Havent been here in over a week and Im happily reading this great story getting caught up and all the sudden I find myself hanging over the edge. Some of ya been here for a couple days already so Ill not complain.
Im thinking fire at his house but who knows. Bret is pretty darn good at spinning things around.
COB
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Post by freebirde on Feb 24, 2021 11:58:04 GMT -6
The Publishing Clearance House team?
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Post by bretf on Feb 25, 2021 13:33:46 GMT -6
Wow, thanks, all!! Love the comments.
Solo and Bluefox, great comments about inexpensive additions for a pack.
Papa, that was good. It made me chuckle.
Now, what did Kevin see?
Freebirde, that was great, (another one that made me chuckle) but if it was the PCH folks, wouldn’t it help his cash flow, since he’s already a winner.
Solo, you certainly hit on a mood killer. (Shudder)
Texican, I don’t know if Cindy with car trouble would dampen his spirits. I think it would increase his pulse rate and respirations. I suppose it would depend on her clothing and pose.
So, we might have a house fire, his or the neighbors. The ex. Cindy. PCH.
I don’t know those all sound feasible. But maybe it’s a couple of young adults on bicycles, wearing white shirts and ties, ready to save him from his lustful thoughts.
We’ll find out soon!
And Solo, where are you standing in the photo? It looks like a place I'd like to visit.
Chapter 10
Despite his enjoyable time with Tammy, Kevin still hoped Cindy might be at her new home, wearing her shape accentuating clothing where he might see her. What he saw before him wasn’t so awe-inspiring. The lane had been transformed while he was at work. The brush that always scraped the sides of his truck had been trimmed back. The dips and holes in the ground were filled with fresh gravel.
He started driving slowly, amazed at and concerned by the change. The uninviting lane had been a deterrent to people to discover where it led. He rounded a bend and pulled up behind a truck and trailer. Two men were on each side of the lane, trimming brush and piling it on the trailer.
Kevin was momentarily frozen behind the wheel of the truck. When he could think, he looked around, searching for the deputy sheriff and the trailer with the porta-pottie. He didn’t see either and their absence confused him. Those men had to be convicts on an alternative sentencing detail.
As he watched, he reconsidered his assumption. Those guys looked even shadier, more hardened than the men and women he’d seen making up the litter crews. He sucked in his breath as one of the men saw him and approached his truck. Kevin fought to stay calm. The man reminded him of some of the dead-beat dads he ran into at work. The dogs growled and bared their fangs.
“Hey man, ya can’t go through. Charley’s got us cutting this brush to keep from scraping the crap outta his ride. You must be the old dude that lives by him, huh?” the man said. “And you better control those f’ing mutts if you don’t want ‘em hurt. Or dead.”
The man snarled, revealing a mouthful of yellow and black teeth, at least the ones he still had. Kevin had the mental image of raw meat and blood dripping down his scarred chin.
“Uh Charley?” Kevin asked, confused.
The man rested his hands over the open window of the truck door and Kevin noticed the tattoos across the tops of his fingers, beginning with “F” on one hand and spelling “OFF” on the other. Classy, Kevin thought to himself and wasn’t surprised to look further up his arm and see tell-tale sores and scabs. “So, is there any way you could move so I can get home” Kevin asked.
The man tipped his head back and laughed like he’d just heard the funniest thing ever. When he finished, he turned towards his companions and yelled, “Dudes, the old fart wants us to move so he can get by. Whadda ya think of that crap?”
The other three men stopped what they were doing and approached the truck, two on the passenger side, and a second man joining the one on Kevin’s side. Jack refocused, facing the new menace opposite his master. Jill remained locked on the men at Kevin’s window, a low rumble deep in her chest. Kevin tried to shrink back into his seat and wished the men really were an alternative sentencing crew with a deputy watching over them.
“Stop? You want us to stop working?” The hulking man spat the words out, drops of spittle flying onto Kevin’s face. The hulk’s shaved head glistened with sweat. He rested his dinner plate sized, heavily scarred hands near the grotesquely tattooed hands of his work mate. His seriously muscled arms were fully exposed by the wife-beater shirt he wore. He was definitely proud of his physique and made sure to show it off.
Kevin tried to shrink further into the seat of the truck.
“Charley’ll have our butts if we don’t get this done by the time him and his ol lady get here. So hell no, we aint movin’ for ya.”
One of the men on the other side of the truck lit a cigarette and blew a plume of smoke into Kevin’s face. He coughed and fanned at the offensive smoke with his hand and asked meekly, “So, so when do you think you’ll be done?”
“We’ll be done when we’re frickin done, and not a minute sooner,” the shaved-head man said. “Now quit buggin’ us fore I get pissed at ya. If Charley goes off on me cause we aint finished, you get everything he gives me, in spades. Hear what I’m sayin’ a-hole? Come on guys, we’ve got work ta do. I don’t want the man on my butt!” he said, and headed back to where he’d been working. With a feral look, the man with the cigarette blew another cloud of smoke at Kevin’s face, shot him a glare, turned, and followed his companions.
Kevin sat in place for several minutes, trembling, and unsure of what to do. He was so close to home, but there was no way he’d leave his truck and walk the rest of the way past those men. Something would surely happen to it if he left it alone with those goons. Actually, he didn’t think it’d be safe there if he stayed with it. Not coming up with anything better, he put the truck into reverse and slowly backed up the lane to the paved road.
#
“Wow, Kev, I get to see you twice in one day. It really is my lucky day,” Tammy said when she stopped at the booth he’d sat in. “Are you okay? You look rattled, like you used to. I’d hoped you were getting over it.”
“Yeah, well, I’m good,” Kevin answered. “How’s work?”
Tammy noted the lack of enthusiasm. “It’s work,” she said, shrugging. He looked troubled, compared to nervous earlier at the laundromat. “What brings you back in today? You said you had work to do at home this evening.”
It was several moments before he finally said, “I didn’t want to cook tonight. What do you recommend on the menu?”
Tammy studied him for a while and asked, “How about the Rueben? It’s my favorite.”
“That sounds great.”
“Do you want a beer with it?” she asked.
“Naw, I’ll have ice tea,” he said, “Unsweetened.”
#
“Can I get you anything else?” Tammy asked. “Maybe more tea?”
Kevin looked up and said, “Yeah, a refill on the tea sounds good. And, uh, could I get a couple of burger patties fried up? Jack and Jill have been out in the truck all this time.” He felt guilty leaving them for so long, but hadn’t wanted to leave and chance running into the goon-gang on his lane. They’d unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.
Tammy returned shortly, carrying a small bag. “I’ll bring your tea after you take care of this,” she said, holding the bag out for him. “They’re medium rare, but I doubt your dogs will mind.”
“Thanks. I’m sure they won’t.” He took the bag and went to the truck.
Tammy saw him return and carried two glasses to his table. The after work crowd was mostly gone, just a few people still at the bar, and Kevin was the only patron still at a table. “Mind if I join you?” she asked. “It looks like you’re my last customer.”
“Yeah, sure,” Kevin said.
She placed one glass in front of him and sat in the opposite seat. “Ahh, that feels good, getting the load off my feet. So what’s going on, Kev? You look like you’re carrying quite a burden. Do you need to unload on me?”
Kevin had no intention of telling her anything, but after a sip of tea, he looked at her face and thought she was serious. So he started talking. Once he started, he couldn’t seem to stop. After telling her about the goons, he switched to his failed marriage, answering questions she’d asked earlier but he’d avoided answering. Before he was finished, it’d grown dark outside and he’d told Tammy more about himself that he’d ever told anyone else. For the most part, she was quiet, letting him ramble.
When he finally wound down, she said, “For what it’s worth, I think Debbie was crazy. I think your home sounds fabulous. Especially if any of those solar flares you mentioned cause havoc.”
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Post by solo on Feb 25, 2021 15:26:58 GMT -6
"And Solo, where are you standing in the photo? It looks like a place I'd like to visit."
That was shot on the top of Masada. What is left of the Dead Sea is over my shoulder.
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