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Post by arkansascob on Mar 25, 2021 8:36:53 GMT -6
Thanks bret for another great chapter.
Kevin needs to keep a close eye on Jack and Jill. Tammy seems very jealous of them and we all know a jealous woman can be very cruel.
As far as Cindy , well its always pleasurable to have a nice view next door but Kevin needs to make sure she stays next door or farther away. I think she is bad news.
Maybe Kevin just needs to avoid women for a bit longer until he is more secure in his new lifestyle. He dont seem to comfortable around them anyways.
COB
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Post by iamnobody on Mar 25, 2021 9:59:21 GMT -6
RED ALERT!!!
My 5 alarm bells just went off on both Tammy and Cindy. Weapons free Kevin! Both of those women may of not been carrying guns, but they both were armed and dangerous.
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Post by sniper69 on Mar 25, 2021 11:59:12 GMT -6
RED ALERT!!!
My 5 alarm bells just went off on both Tammy and Cindy. Weapons free Kevin! Both of those women may of not been carrying guns, but they both were armed and dangerous.
Maybe I read to much into it, and am probably making assumptions (that are more than likely incorrect) - but is Tammy any relation to the guy that Kevin helped to put in jail? Or is Cindy's husband friends with the guy? Maybe I need to stop figuring out the rest of the story before it is written.
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Post by ydderf on Mar 25, 2021 12:18:50 GMT -6
Is Tammy reading the same tea leaves Kevin is reading. Perhaps she too wants to be prepared. Kevin needs to assure himself that she is not a leech and is looking for a partnership.
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Post by 2t2crash on Mar 30, 2021 3:17:55 GMT -6
The dogs don’t like Tammy: I don’t like Tammy.... trust your guardians!
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remembergoliad
Member
if you send friend req on FB, message me too. I won't accept if I don't recognize you.
Posts: 158
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Post by remembergoliad on Mar 30, 2021 6:43:01 GMT -6
The dogs don’t like Tammy: I don’t like Tammy.... trust your guardians! Kevin's apparently not too terribly adept at reading this kind of clue just yet, though. Could be reading the dogs' protectiveness too deeply. I mean, they just found their human, and like their human, and want to keep it to themselves. There's very subtle differences between jealousy and dislike that Kevin might not be picking up on. All that said, I think Kevin's got the right idea about the siren next door AND his extreme discretion with Tammy. With T, it truly is 'too soon to tell'.
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Post by bretf on Mar 30, 2021 17:57:56 GMT -6
Thanks all for the comments and the insight. You always give me something to think about.
Chapter 15
Not accustomed to receiving calls on the weekend, Kevin was startled when his phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, he looked at the display. It didn’t give a name; the number unknown. Debating whether or not to answer, he muttered, “Let me guess, my extended warranty is about to run out.”
Expecting to disconnect the moment a computerized voice activated, he accepted the call. “Hello.”
“Hi Kev. I was starting to wonder if you were going to pick up.”
“Tammy?”
“Yeah, it is. I’m calling to apologize.”
“Apologize? For what?”
“For my behavior yesterday. After I had time to think, I saw how appalling I behaved.”
Not knowing how to respond, Kevin didn’t, just looked at the dogs with raised eyebrows.
“Anyway, I’m sorry for coming on so strong. I know you’re shy and afraid to be burned again, but I like you a lot, and well, I pushed too hard. I’m sorry for that.”
Kevin muttered a “Hum.”
“Afterwards, I got to thinking how some guys at the bar come on to me. They tick me off to no end, and I was embarrassed to realize I was acting the same way. Physically, at least, if not verbally. So, as I said, I’m sorry, and it won’t happen again.”
Kevin repeated his monosyllabic response.
“And I’m sorry for leaving in a huff. As I said, I like you a lot. And no matter what I did, appropriate in the situation or not, your dogs did their best to stop me. I told you before, I’m not a dog person, and I swear they picked up on it.”
“Uh, okay.”
“Still a man of many words, Kev. Anyway, I hope you’ll accept my apology. And if you don’t come to the laundromat Wednesday, I’ll understand. But if you do come, I promise I’ll back off and let things move slowly.
“Bye,” she said, ending the call before he could respond.
Kevin looked at the silent phone and shook his head. “I’ll never understand women,” he told the dogs. Then he saved the number in his contacts list.
#
The peas weren’t dried enough when Kevin was ready to go to work Monday morning. He poured them into a Rubbermaid knock-off container and took his drying racks down. He’d set them up again once he got to work. The dogs jumped in and they were off.
Once Kevin dropped his lunch in his office, turned on the computer, and got a cup of coffee, he went to his supervisor, Walt’s, office.
“Hey Walt, how are you doing? Good weekend?”
“Oh, morning Kevin. Yeah, it was nice. We went fishing, and believe it or not, we actually did some catching, too.”
“Sounds nice,” Kevin said.
Walt tilted his head and looked at Kevin over his readers, waiting.
“Do you remember Jack Randall?” Kevin asked.
Walt scrunched his brow, thinking. “No, I don’t. Was he a subject in one of your cases?”
“Yes. Remember the woman, Nancy Weibe, and her son who were abused by the live in? He got prison for it.”
“Oh, yeah. That guy. I hope they lost they key when they locked him up.”
“They didn’t. In fact, I hear he has a parole hearing this week.”
Walt shook his head. “What are they thinking?”
“I sure don’t know. Do you remember what he said at his sentencing?”
Walt nodded.
“Did you ever have anyone make threats like that to you?” Kevin asked.
Walt frowned and said, “More than one.”
“What did you do about it?”
Walt pursed his lips and his brow crinkled while he thought. Coming to a decision, he opened a desk drawer and took out a book of business cards. Thumbing through it, he found the one he wanted and pulled it out. Without speaking, he held it out to Kevin.
Kevin read it and looked at Walt, questioningly. “Concealed carry instructor? You mean it would be alright to have a weapon here?”
“It is, but only if you have the permit.”
Kevin read the card again. “Do you carry a gun?”
Walt nodded and tapped his left chest. “It’s not good for anything if it’s not at hand.”
It took a bit for the information to sink in. “Thanks,” Kevin said when it did, and walked back to his office. He’d never suspected Walt was armed.
Kevin waited until mid-morning to make the call. After he closed his office door. It so happened, there’d be a class on Saturday and it still had openings. Kevin cringed at spending the money but confirmed he’d be there. He was surprised as he jotted down the particulars about the class. It’d be held at the gun range he’d been at two days ago. Although his name wasn’t on the card Walt had given him, Kevin wondered if Dave would be the instructor. He’d certainly been thorough in basic gun training. He hoped so; a familiar face would be welcome.
#
Janice was happy as always to keep an eye on Jack and Jill during lunch. He drove to the recycling center, checked in with the yard man, and wandered through the piles of scrap metal. He found a section of two-and-a-half-inch pipe with one end capped that would work for a well bucket. It was longer than he needed but he could remedy that with a few minutes and a sharp hacksaw blade.
The only window screens he saw were in poor condition so he left them and headed to the office.
The attendant weighed the pipe and said, “How’s two bucks sound?”
“That sounds fine,” Kevin said and paid the man.
#
The evening before as he studied the garden, he’d decided he needed a better way to dehydrate his produce. Some vegetables might produce enough to can, but the peas had shown he needed an effective drying alternative. During a lull in work in the afternoon, he was able to look for solar dehydrator plans. While there were some nice designs, they were all more involved than he wanted to build. He searched to see how raisins were dried. The process was very rudimentary. After a few minutes online, he decided he needed something in between. Although the screens in the truck were working, it was inconvenient to take down and set up again each time he needed to go somewhere.
As he thought about it, he decided he’d make simple rectangular frames and put screen on them. Matching frames with cheese cloth stretched over them would mount on top. That was the big change from raisins; they were dried exposed to everything. In his opinion, it would be worthwhile to keep flies and other bugs off the food he was drying. He’d use sawhorses for legs for the drying racks.
On the way home, Kevin purchased the materials he’d need to make two sets of racks and one pair of saw horses. He already had one pair of horses. He bought a rope for the well bucket and also bought a pack of hack saw blades. Maybe he didn’t need the blades but he wouldn’t count on it.
The blades turned out to be a worthwhile and necessary purchase. The blade in his hacksaw was rusty and dull. The pipe was hardly marked when the blade broke. With a new blade, he started cutting. Metal flakes flew from the pipe with each stroke. “Wow. I should’ve started with a new blade.”
After the pipe was cut, leaving him a sixteen-inch-long section to pull water from the well, he drilled holes for the rope. He followed that by using a file to take the sharp edges off the cut end. He put the tools away and carried the pipe to the kitchen.
He put the plug in the sink and started the water running, adding a generous splash of bleach. He scrubbed the pipe as well as he could, inside and out, rinsed it, and put it in the dish rack to dry. Dropping the newly purchased rope in the sink, he sloshed it around in the bleach solution, pulled the plug, and rinsed it. Alter it was draped loosely in the drying rack, he turned the cold water back on and ran it over his hands for a minute. “I definitely had enough bleach,” he told the dogs.
After supper, he and the dogs went back outside. He didn’t think he had enough time to finish his drying racks but he could make a good start. Before heading to the shed, he stood at the front step, studying the neighbors’ house. The side closest to him was different. A French Door had been put in the wall, near where he thought Harvey’s bedroom had been. The deck appeared to be finished and a hot tub was sitting not far from the new door.
Kevin shook his head. “I’d think they’d have put the door in before painting the wall. Regardless, that’s not Harvey’s place anymore, for sure.”
#
The next morning, the well-bucket and rope were dry. Kevin threaded the rope through the holes in the pipe and tied it with a bowline. He stuffed the rest of the rope into the pipe. He went to the broom closet where he kept the bag of used bags, pulling out two bread bags.
He shook the bags over the dog dishes to dislodge any remaining crumbs. Putting the well bucket into one, he secured the end with a bread tie, then repeated with the second bag. When he left the house for work, he made a quick detour to the pump house and left the pipe-bucket beside the well casing.
As he drove to the office, he contemplated his to do list. He still needed to work on his go bag. If Janice was willing, at lunch time, he’d run over to the Army-Navy store and see what they had.
Janice was willing. He found a serviceable pack, several cheap disposable emergency blankets, and a water filter. It was a start. He’d add to it a bit at a time as he was able.
The evening went well. He was able to finish the drying racks and the sawhorses. After putting everything away, he went to the house to get ready for bed. But before he did, he got his laundry together and set the bag on his table, ready for morning.
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Post by papaof2 on Mar 30, 2021 18:51:42 GMT -6
Coming along nicely.
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Post by ydderf on Mar 30, 2021 19:07:14 GMT -6
Thanks Bret.
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Post by bretf on Apr 7, 2021 5:37:25 GMT -6
Chapter 16
Kevin was in as good a mood as he could remember as he was getting ready for work. Glancing at his bag of laundry, he smiled. Just as he was ready to leave, his phone chimed with an incoming text. He looked at the screen, noting it was the second since he’d plugged it in the previous evening. Both were from Tammy. The first had come in not long after he’d gone to bed but he hadn’t noticed it. Opening the conversation and reading, his good mood evaporated and he sank to his regular gloom.
“Kev, didn’t hear from U & thought U must need space. Maybe best if I skip laundry. T”
The second message was better but didn’t lift him. “Busy with sister today. Maybe laundry tomorrow?” It was followed by a smiling face emoji.
Kevin stared at the screen. There was no reason he couldn’t put laundry off a day, as long as Janice was willing. Then again, he probably should stay at the office since he’d left the dogs with her two days in a row. It took a while, but with several times hitting the backspace key to erase mistakes, he finally got his message written. “Thursday sounds good. See you then.”
A response came in moments. “Bring your appetite, I’ll bring Reubens.”
Kevin smiled as broadly as the accompanying emoji.
#
Kevin was bent over his folder, studying. He quietly talked to himself. “Okay, rule of threes. Where am I with it?”
“Three minutes: oxygen and icy water. I think I’m okay there.”
He read the next item.
“Three hours without shelter. Okay, I’ve got a start with the pack but I need to study that book on bushcraft more.” He made a note, underlining the name of the book with a red pen.
“Three days without water. I have the well bucket and the water filter. I should be covered. I hope.”
“And three weeks without food. Now tie that in with the three ‘B’s. I got the guns and some—”
“Oh, hey, Kevin. I didn’t expect to see you. I thought you do your laundry on Wednesday,” Walt said. He stepped into Kevin’s office, a paper in his hand.
Kevin looked up and said, “Hey, Walt. Yeah, I normally do, but I’ve left the dogs with Janice two days in a row. I’ll give her a break today and hit the laundromat tomorrow.”
“Humph,” Walt grunted. “Then I guess I don’t need this,” he held up the paper. “I can just tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“Warden Franklin just called. Jack Randall’s parole hearing was this morning. He was denied. Franklin thought I’d like to know since he threatened you.”
Kevin felt an invisible weight leave him. “That’s great. Thanks, Walt.”
Walt nodded. “Did you call that number I gave you?”
“Huh? Oh, sorry, yeah. But maybe I don’t need to go through with it, now,” Kevin said. He smiled. “Denied.”
Walt shook his head. “I recommend you take the class and get the permit. This doesn’t change a thing. Eventually, he’ll get out if someone even meaner than him doesn’t kill him first. Besides, he’s not the only one we’ve ticked off. He was just the most vocal. Take the class and get the permit.”
Walt watched him while Kevin thought about it for a bit and then shrugged. Walt turned and left, repeating himself as he went. “Get the permit.”
Kevin watched him go, still asking himself if he needed to now that Randall was getting out. He wasn’t convinced he needed to. His and Walt’s short conversation ran through his head. He smiled and murmured, “Denied.” Something else Walt had said wormed its way into his consciousness. He’d been so relieved when he heard the word denied, much of what Walt said after didn’t mean much. But suddenly, one thing did. “If someone even meaner than him doesn’t kill him first”.
A chill ran up his spine. In his mind, he was setting in the seat of his pickup. Two goons were on each side of the truck. The men tasked with cutting the brush along his lane. On the driver’s side, the man with the meth-ravaged features and obscene tattoos. The bald-headed hulk, leaning in, threatening. The weasely man blowing his cigarette smoke in his face from the passenger side.
Someone meaner than him. Kevin shook himself out of the spell. Standing, he walked to Walt’s office, put his head inside and said, “Walt, I’m going to do it.”
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Post by ydderf on Apr 7, 2021 15:10:04 GMT -6
Looking good thanks Bret.
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Post by 9idrr on Apr 7, 2021 20:19:39 GMT -6
More is always good. Thanks.
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Post by texican on Apr 7, 2021 22:39:48 GMT -6
Bret,
Kev may overthink, but does come to the right decisions. Get the permit.
Thanks for the chapter.
Texican....
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Post by bretf on Apr 15, 2021 18:36:48 GMT -6
Chapter 17
Two washing machines were running with Kevin’s laundry - whites in one and colors in the other, thank you Tammy – as he sat alone in the laundromat. Glancing at his watch, and then his phone, he wondered if he’d misinterpreted Tammy’s text. Or missed another one. Perhaps he missed a subliminal message. Should he have responded with a longer, well-worded message. He didn’t know the answer to any of his questions. All he knew was he didn’t understand women. The worst part was, he was deeply attracted to them.
The laundromat door opened and Kevin jumped up – at last, she made it – and he wilted. The woman with the two kids coming in the door wasn’t Tammy. Staring glumly out the window, he settled back down and checked his phone screen again. Nothing.
Kevin was resigned to the fact he’d been stood up. If only the washing machines would open mid-cycle, he’d pull his wash out and leave. But once the machine started, the door was sealed until the cycle finished. He knew that, but tried to stop and open the machine anyway. It was wasted effort. As he sat back down, his phone rang.
“Kev, hey. Sorry, I’m running late,” Tammy said in greeting.
“Oh, that’s okay. I’ve got nothing but time until the wash finishes.”
“The kitchen was hammered with the lunch crowd today. I should be there in five minutes or so.”
“Alright. I’ll see you then.”
Kevin breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t been stood up, after all.
As promised, Tammy pushed through the door five minutes later.
Kevin stood. “Hi.”
“Hi. Sorry I’m late.”
Kevin shrugged. “Did you forget your laundry?”
Tammy looked around as if surprised. “Rats. Now where did I leave that?” She smiled at him. “Well, then, I guess we can just eat lunch and talk and take care of your wash.”
“Uhm, okay,” Kevin said.
As they were eating, Tammy said, “As I told you, I’m sorry about the other day at your house. Do you suppose I could come out this weekend and we can try again? I’d really like to see the whole place.”
Kevin took his time chewing, considering his answer. After swallowing, he said,” I’d like that. But it’ll have to be Sunday, if that’ll work for you?”
“Oh?” Tammy said with raised eyebrows. Her face showed she wanted to say more but she remained quiet.
“Yeah, I won’t be around on Saturday. I’ve got a continuing education class to go to,” he said. He didn’t want to tell her what the class really was. She might think he was some kind of gun nut. Or worse. His answer didn’t feel like much of a stretch. Any class continued his education, he reasoned.
“However, I might put you to work,” he added.
Her eyes twinkled and she said, “Oh, so you’re going to make me earn my keep, huh?”
He was sure she had more to say but she didn’t so he continued. “Well, I’ve got to take care of some things in the garden. Sunday will be my only chance.”
“I’ll be happy to help. So, do you have to do a lot of these continuing ed classes?”
“No, just one or two per year. Plus, I occasionally enroll in other classes I think will be worthwhile.”
“Such as?”
“I want to take a CPR and first aid class as soon as I can work one in,” Kevin said.
“That’s a good idea. Knowledge you should have but hope to never use.”
Kevin nodded, thinking of his upcoming Saturday class. Her line certainly fit for it.
“I could stand to take that, too. Do you think we could take it together?” Tammy asked.
It took a moment for Kevin to get back on track. When he did, he looked at her expectantly.
“What?” she asked.
“Well, uh,” he said and looked away from her face. “I, uh, expected a mouth-to-mouth comment.”
She smiled and said, “I nearly made my tongue bleed from biting it. But I told you I’d be on my best behavior so you’ll just have to imagine what I wanted to say.”
“Uh, huh,” he said, reddening, and taking another bite of the sandwich. “This is good,” he muttered.
#
Kevin spent the evening studying the document he’d been emailed regarding the upcoming concealed carry class. His mind wasn’t totally on what he read, recalling his lunch with Tammy. But maybe that was good. If he dwelled on the guns and shooting too much, he’d start the mental debate again over whether or not he should even take the class.
The first item, he felt half-way decent about.
I strongly recommend you take a beginner pistol class first. First-time shooters in a beginner pistol class will learn state laws, basic firearm safety rules, proper shooting stances, parts of a pistol, how to clean a pistol, and more.
During his session with Dave at the gun range, Dave had pretty much covered all of that.
The next item listed made him glad he hadn’t waited until the last minute. It was a form he needed to fill out and return prior to the class. The first section was easy; full legal name, email address, phone number, and home address.
The next section wanted him to describe his shooting experience. While tempted to write none, he looked at the first item listed. He wrote a paragraph about his class, including Dave’s name and the date he’d met with the instructor.
The next questions required simple yes or no answers. No, he wasn’t current or former law enforcement. No, he wasn’t military. No, he wasn’t private security. Definitely no, he wasn’t a convicted felon.
He emailed the completed form and returned his attention to the document. The next section was titled “What to Bring to a Conceal and Carry Class”. The first part related to safety and would constitute a shopping trip: eye and ear protection. His scratched up safety glasses and foam ear plugs would be inadequate. During his one time at the range, Dave had provided both and he hadn’t thought about getting some for himself. He had a day to get that taken care of. Groaning, he wondered how much he’d end up spending before he was through.
Reading on, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Proper Clothing”. Pretty much everything listed was what he already wore, either at home or at the office. Hopefully, the rest of the document would be as easy on his billfold.
Ammunition was next. “DO NOT BRING LIVE AMMUNITION INTO THE CLASSROOM! Leave live ammunition in your vehicle until the range portion of the class.”
The next heading was “Handgun”. “Your gun will be checked at the door by the instructors before you are allowed to enter.” There was more, but that was the main point.
The final section was a brief of what to expect and plan for. The class would be all day, with a short break for lunch. All participants were encouraged to pack a lunch, bring water, and sunscreen. It would start in the classroom and proceed from there to the shooting range. Kevin went through it all, his head swimming as he read and reread sections. Once again, he began the mental debate, whether or not he should go through with it. His thoughts drifted back to Tammy and he wondered if she’d approve. Maybe when she came over on Sunday he could broach the subject of guns in an innocuous way.
Jack and Jill made him forget his debate and Tammy. They ran to the door, growling, the hair on their backs standing up. Kevin stood and stepped away from the table. After flicking the light off so he could see out and not be silhouetted, he went to the window. Looking out, he felt a cold chill creep down his spine. Involuntarily, he jumped from the crack of the gunshot.
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Post by iamnobody on Apr 15, 2021 19:20:04 GMT -6
I'm so glad I have been using a hand exerciser all this week. Now I have stronger fingers for this cliff hanger.
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Post by 9idrr on Apr 15, 2021 20:19:41 GMT -6
Nah, I thought, our ol' buddy Bret wouldn't leave us hangin' off the cliff, again. He's gonna take pity on his good buddies here on the forum and not let us dangle. He wouldn't even dream of doin' that. Never. Couldn't happen here. Here I am, suckered again.
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Post by bretf on Apr 16, 2021 15:25:56 GMT -6
Nah, I thought, our ol' buddy Bret wouldn't leave us hangin' off the cliff, again. He's gonna take pity on his good buddies here on the forum and not let us dangle. He wouldn't even dream of doin' that. Never. Couldn't happen here. Here I am, suckered again. 9, I’m sorry you feel this way, buddy. I did this out of concern for you, after all. You see, it’s been a few weeks since I left you hanging and I was getting concerned your muscles would atrophy if I didn’t step in and help. Just look at all the work your arms and hands will get now. If this doesn’t help, maybe IAN can recommend a good hand exerciser.
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Post by 9idrr on Apr 16, 2021 20:05:15 GMT -6
Damn, boy, you're about the best buddy a guy could want. I don't know anybody who would take such good care of his readers. Best part of it is, pretty soon I'll have such big arms I can arm wrestle for beer and at least beat some of the third grade girls. Thanks for thinkin' of me.
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Post by texican on Apr 17, 2021 21:58:53 GMT -6
Bret gets to 9 again.... Texican....
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Post by ydderf on Apr 18, 2021 9:07:36 GMT -6
Acrophobia, thanks Bret. I will stand back away from the edge.
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Post by 9idrr on Apr 18, 2021 18:58:05 GMT -6
Bret gets to 9 again.... Texican.... When you're takin' flack, you know you're over the target. An' how' he gonna keep his aim good if'n I don't give him plenty of practice?
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Post by bretf on Apr 26, 2021 17:02:14 GMT -6
In 2014 while I was writing my first story, The Danged Rocks, I put in an unplanned chapter based on an all-to-real experience. The main character had a case of cellulitis; a bacteria that’s just around, getting under the skin and causing havoc. How and where I picked it up wasn’t certain, but I’d been working in the garden and cleaning the chicken house. At one time or another, I may have put on a pair of shorts.
Fast forward to 2021. Spring, and the first days in the 70’s. So I put on a pair of shorts and worked in the garden, the yard, and around my place. A few days later, I had a painful, red lump on my leg. I looked close and saw a tiny scratch. Days passed and it remained. Then it grew and it hurt to walk.
For the second time, I have cellulitis. At least this time, the first regimen of antibiotics appears to be diminishing the red, swollen area. Last time, the bacteria laughed at it and I had to go back and get a broad range of more potent antibiotic.
Both instances give me the idea, that in an EOTWAWKI situation, maybe, we shouldn’t shrug off tiny scratches and wounds. I always have, but it’s bitten me in the hiney twice. Both times, it involved the garden (fertilized with chicken manure) and the chicken house.
Just something to consider.
Chapter 18
The man on the neighbors’ deck brandishing the handgun was a stranger. But the other man, the cowering hulk, his shaved head shining with reflected light was unmistakable. After holding the barrel against the shaved head, the man moved the weapon and fired into the air.
Kevin jumped. He couldn’t understand what the man said, but the tone and delivery made it obvious he was mad. The hulking man’s posture and hand motions indicated he was begging or apologizing.
Kevin watched and asked quietly, “Who on earth is he, that the big guy is so afraid?” With a shudder he recalled how intimidating the large man was during their brief encounter. He missed the Harvey’s quietness and wished the old man hadn’t been put in a home. He forced down the lump in his throat.
The men remained on the deck, the smaller man gesticulating wildly with his pistol. Twice more, he held the barrel against the shaved head. The last time, the big man must’ve said the right words. The smaller man slipped his had under his jacket and removed it weaponless.
Kevin surmised he wore a shoulder holster. He watched in surprise as the hand went from holding a gun against the big man’s head to patting him on the back.
“What?” Kevin asked quietly. “He’s ready to shoot him one moment and all chummy the next? What’s going on over there?”
The men left the deck, going to a large black SUV parked in front of the framed structure Kevin guessed was going to be a garage. They each removed large boxes and carried them into the partial building. As they moved forward, they appeared to shrink. Kevin realized the building would be over a basement.
Kevin remained riveted to the window until the men reemerged, got in the SUV, and drove away. “What is going on over there?” he asked. Part of him, a tiny part, considered getting his shotgun and going over to get a look at the staircase and maybe find out what was in the boxes. But he wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to chance being caught over there if the men returned. The pistol would surely be pressed against his head if that happened and he doubted he could appease the man.
Shaking from the thought, he left the window and clicked the light in the stove hood on at the low setting. It was much dimmer than the overhead lights. Glancing at the table he saw his phone. “Ugh. Why didn’t I video that?” It seemed to be the way of the world now. Everyone with a phone had a video camera at hand and weren’t hesitant to use it and post their videos on social media. He’d have to remember that. Not for social media, but for the police if something happened. “Or if something happens to me.”
Unnerved by what he’d seen and wild thoughts about what might happen, he went to the bedroom. The guns were where he’d stashed them. Shaking his head, he took them both out. The shotgun, he leaned against the wall at the head of his bed. He put the pistol in his waistband, then went and straightened up from his evening’s studies. Before letting the dogs out for the final time before bed, he retrieved the shotgun, turned the lone light back off, and stepped outside with Jack and Jill. Neither indicated anything amiss. Relieved, he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. When he and the dogs went inside, he got ready and got into bed. The pistol went under his pillow.
Unable to fall asleep right away, he thought of what he’d seen. And what he’d do if whatever it was ever flowed over to him. It’d be best if he could keep them away. But how could he do it without feeling like he was imprisoning himself.
He lay and pondered. An idea came and he smiled. It wouldn’t be instant, but over time, he could create animal habitat, another food source, and an impenetrable barrier. Now he just had to figure out where to get blackberry starts.
#
Kevin’s face was set with determination as he got out of his truck. Crossing the lot, he opened the door to the range facility ready to hand his pistol over to be checked. The man checking guns turned out to be Dave, who’d given him his basic pistol instruction.
Dave looked up, his brow crinkled. Recognition relaxed his face and he said, “Kevin, right? Good to see you here.”
“It seemed like the next step.”
“Yup. Knowledge is priceless, especially knowledge that may save your life some day,” Dave said. “Now let me see your pistol.”
Dave checked the pistol and returned it to Kevin. “All right, grab a seat. We should get started in just a few minutes.”
Kevin took a seat at a table. Stacks of printed material was laid out at each seat. He looked through it until a woman walked to the front of the room. She looked familiar.
Addressing the room’s occupants, the woman said, “Welcome, everyone. My name is Katie Johnson. I’ll be leading this class, along with Dave, the owner of the range.” She motioned towards him. “I am a deputy sheriff here, and we both are certified NRA instructors. If we go over something you don’t understand, please ask. The only dumb question is the one unasked.”
Kevin remembered why she seemed familiar. She was the deputy who’d been using the range during his previous trip there.
Katie Johnson scanned the room, giving time for questions, then dove into the written material in front of each of the participants. She and Dave took several opportunities to include hands-on Learning. Dummy ammunition rounds, holsters, training pistols were passed out.
Following discussions on all they’d been over, the participants were instructed to begin the written test, a requirement in an NRA class. Kevin was relieved when they were told it was open book. Katie and Dave had given a lot of information and he wasn’t sure he remembered enough of it.
The lunch break followed the exam. Then it was outside for the live fire test.
At the conclusion, the instructors passed out certificates for passing the course. They’d need to be shown when the participants applied for their concealed carry permits.
As Katie Johnson handed Kevin’s over, she said, “Dave told me about your situation. Make sure you follow through with this. That Jack Randall is one bad man.”
Kevin reached for the paper but didn’t take it as his mind raced. He came to a decision. “Yes, he is. But what if I told you, Deputy, that I think I saw someone even worse than him a couple of nights ago?”
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Post by 9idrr on Apr 26, 2021 18:37:52 GMT -6
Bret comes through again, before I even had to beg!
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Post by ydderf on Apr 27, 2021 9:19:43 GMT -6
Thanks Bret.Is it okay if we continue with the muse feeding schedule?
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Post by texican on Apr 27, 2021 22:14:48 GMT -6
Bret.
Thanks for the chapter.
When I taught construction management night classes, I would use nearly word for word: If we go over something you don’t understand, please ask. The only dumb question is the one unasked. Getting those that had already worked 8 and sometimes more hours that day to speak up was a chore, but prodding them to participate always provided dividends for the whole class and even the instructor.
When I saw the class starting to nod off, would end the class.
Teaching was fun and fulfilling.
Texican....
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