Unfinished Fragment: Tinnitus

[rvm45]

Fair warning Friends:

I started this story a long time ago, and lost the Narrative Thread. When that happens, Its like trying to forge Cold Iron.

Might as well just stop.

People urge me to finish some of my unfinished stories. Truth be told, some get downright hostile and demanding. It just doesn't work that way--at least for me.....

The main themes here were: Dan's incessant Tinnitus which "Speaks" to him in Comical ways.

The idea that Dan is no longer young or healthy enough to be a Front-Line Warrior--But by obeying God, and being generous, he comes to be the leader of a Relatively Large Clan.

There will be Four chapters altogether.....

I last posted new material on this Story in 17 September 09.....

Been so long--This almost looks like it could be dusted off, Re-Written, and presented for Semi-Mainstream Publication--Or not.

My Muse is Highly Erratic--"Erratic" Not "Erotic"!!! Get y'all's minds outa the gutter!

Started a new one today. Let me know what y'all think...
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* Tinnitus



Dan had been coming home on leave from the Army, over thirty years ago, when he’d met a fellow soldier in a bus depot, with an absolutely huge boom-box. Contrary to any wicked stereotypes–the fellow had been a very clean-cut white guy–even on leave, and in his civies.


But his boom-box was unique in Dan’s experience; because it had two playing heads. You could play two completely different songs at one time–which is what the mixing improvisario invariably did. You could adjust either volume, or fiddle with the bass to treble ratio; on each side singly too. Many other things that Dan only vaguely understood.


Now Dan’s fifty some-odd year old ears were doing the same sort of mixing experiments. When everything was relatively quite, he could hear more than the beat of a distant drum. He could hear whole distant orchestras.


Musically, it sounded like someone was blending Celtic; Bluegrass; and the Blues–with some weird Techno and Trance–not to mention a bit of Jazz thrown in. It sounded like Rob Zombie was endlessly repeating that he had a monster in his pants...over and over–where Dan couldn’t quite catch all the words...but he recognized the cadence.


All at the same time, Stevie Nicks sang the “Oompah-Loompah” song until she ran it into the ground. Then some times Peewee Herman rapped with Vin Diesel for backup. Then they’d all sing Mr Rodgers’ song together. Meanwhile, the Evil Little Faeries kept sublimining, “Come away with us, Human Child” in their mechanical, insectile voices.


Now Dan knew he wasn’t crazy–well, maybe he was–but the extraordinary concert that he often heard in his head didn’t bear upon it. He knew Damn good and well that Stevie Nicks–who’d be ancient by now anyway–and Rob Zombie; Evil Insectile Faeries; et. al–were not having an impromptu rap session somewhere in his head.


That was simply the best description that he could give to the underlying music that he often heard. Anyway, he was over fifty years old; and still weighed over three hundred pounds. If those Evil Little Faeries had targeted him as a human child, they were sadly mistaken.


Although any description of the music is bound to sound clashing and chaotic, the volume was low enough, and the blending seamless enough, that in practice Dan found it rather soothing...


Which was just as well. Dan had plenty of other causes for concern.

************************************************** **************


“After I pay the house payment, were going to have just over one hundred dollars to run us almost three weeks–and you know how prices have gone up” Dan’s sister Rita said.


Dan nodded in understanding. Neither he nor Rita had ever married. At one time, Dan had wanted a wife very badly. He’d wanted children more. He’d courted four women to the point of proposal, and they’d all turned him down. Dan was stubborn, and he had a one-track mind, once he became obsessed with something. He’d hardly stopped at asking once.


He’d asked again and again. He’d tried reasoning; he’d tried persuasion; he’d tried bargaining...


When all else failed, he’d tried pleading and begging. All to no avail.


Dan hadn’t been the best judge of womenfolk. Now when he saw the wreckage of each of those women’s lives, and the men they’d dragged down with them, he praised God–and wondered what he’d said or done, to be counted worthy to be spared such a fate.


No, it was better this way, Dan thought. Though he sometimes regretted that he’d never feel the grasp of a tiny infant Dan’s grip around one of his trigger-fingers.


He’d taken jobs half a country away–but he’d learned early on, that jobs don’t last. For some reason, it generally took about two years for them to get to know him well enough to know that they really didn’t want him on the Payroll. Then they’d start nit-picking, working to get enough write-ups in his file, that they could justify firing him.


He’d kept hoping that one day he’d find an employer who wasn’t an ass. But he’d never moved the bulk of his stuff out of his father’s house–he always figured that he’d be forced back sooner or later.

Dan’s sister had an uncanny knack for keeping a job. She’d once held one for over a decade–but so far as Dan knew, she’d never had a date, and she’d never left home. She’d gone from Wall-Flower; to too outspoken and abrasive; to being an Old Maid.


Dan had sometimes wondered what she thought about being an Old Maid; but he respected her privacy too much to ever ask her. At any rate, they’d ended up inheriting their parent’s house; and sharing expenses...

And lately There’d been too many expenses, and not enough income.


“Do you remember Shawn and Linda?” Rita asked.

“Of course, they invited me to their wedding. Nice kids,” Dan answered.

“Well, she’s lost her job. Shawn’s job is as secure as any job can be nowadays, but he’s not getting overtime like he used to–and they’re having Friday layoffs every time they turn around.”

“I’ll put it on my prayer list,” Dan said.


He could tell Rita wasn’t finished with the topic yet. Perhaps she wanted to break into their preps to gift the kids some rice, noodles, beans, flour–whatever. They didn’t have a huge surplus; and what they had was rather basic; but if Rita felt led...Well, one should trust in the Lord and not in one’s storage program. Although a good storage program was simply being a responsible Steward, so far as Dan was concerned.


“What if they came to stay with us? We don’t use Mother’s old room. Its big enough for the two of them and the baby–not to stay cooped up in, I mean–but if they had the run of the house.

“They’re paying over eight hundred dollars a month for rent. Say that they give us four hundred a month–cut their bills over half–That would more than double our grocery money...”


Dan closed his eyes and pondered the question in detail–while his all-star choir sang about “Follow The Yellow Brick Road” to some mournful Celtic melody. When they’d thoroughly exhausted “The Yellow Brick Road song”; they started singing “Ding-Dong, The Witch is Dead” as if Dorothy; Toto; and all the Mutchkin had come from Harlan Kentucky. A bunch of Bluegrass Musicians from Kentucky–or anywhere else on God’s Green Earth; for that matter–wouldn’t have repeated the same Riffs dozens and dozens of times...


“You don’t approve,” Rita said apprehensively.

“Nah, It’s a good plan. Let me think and pray on it a couple or three days–but it sounds good.”


Dan was sitting with his feet crossed and one of their two-hundred pound dogs decided to lay on Dan’s feet. That way, she’d have early warning if Dan decided to go someplace. Only Dan’s feet were propped one on the other; so when a huge dog just dropped on them, Dan bellowed in pain.


As he rubbed his throbbing ankle, he had an idea.


“If we rent that room to your friends, can we get a dog?”

“No! I’ve told you that we will not have a dog in this house!”


“We’ll see about that,” Dan said as he stroked his bloodhound’s ears. “What kinda reception do you get with those?” He asked her.”Do those Evil Little Faeries try to lure you off ?”

“Come away with us Human Child..’.No, wait...You’re a Bloodhound.’ Come away with us Human Bloodhound Little Girl,” Dan said in a nasal imitation of the Faeries’ voices.

“Don’t worry about her,” His sister counseled. “If one of those Faeries you’re always obsessing about, tries to lure Martha away, she’ll eat them. God knows, she eats everything else. Marcus is catching birds on the wing again.”

“You need to feed them more,” Dan said.

“How big do you want them to get?”

“Well big enough that I don’t have to worry all Summer–afraid a Locust; a Wasp; or a Praying Mantis doesn’t fly off with one of them.”

“Show me a Praying Mantis that can fly off with a two hundred pound dog.”

“Why, if I showed you, then what would you do?”

Dan got the last word. He felt kinda expansive, having won the verbal sparing match. He sat and hummed contentedly along with the Insectoid Faeries; sub-vocalizing the words.


.....RVM45

[rvm45]

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*Chapter Two




Dan was delighted to find out that Shawn had a few Guns. He had a nice Marlin .30-30–come down to it, he could make a meaningful contribution to the defense of the house with that. He had a Stoeger Double-Barrel 20 Gauge with 18 and one quarter inch barrels–his home defense weapon of choice; a Single-Shot H&R 20 Gauge that he’d hunted with since the age of thirteen { Which explained his attachment to the 20 Gauge}; and he had a couple miscellaneous .22 Rifles. He even had an ancient Iver Johnson Breaktop in .38 S&W.


Dan smiled, and scraped together enough money to lay in some.30-30 and some 20 Gauge; since he had neither. He also acquired dies for .30-30 and .38 S&W. And of course he marked the occasion as a reason to buy a few more bricks of .22LR; And more primers; Unique; and 2400.


Shawn also brought a Boston Terrier and a black tomcat. He’d been worried what to do with his pets when Dan had found out, and insisted that he bring them. The Boston was sometimes trampled underfoot by the Bloodhound or the Bull Mastiff; but he was exceptionally tough and resilient. He always got up ready to scrap and play. Apparently getting trodden by a behemoth dog was all part of the fun.


The Boston added another set of eyes and ears to their early warning system and being a high strung little guy, he added some high octane to the canine mix. Dan couldn’t see what the tomcat added. He was nimble enough that he very rarely got trampled. He took part in the play occasionally, though generally at arm’s reach; and when the dogs lay down to rest, he’d come and cuddled against one of them. Dan had come to the conclusion some years earlier, that dogs were pets for people; and cats were great pets for dogs.


Linda liked to cook, and she’d grown up cooking for a large family–and she didn’t think of it as a chore. Dan had been doing most of the kitchen duties, since he was home on disability–but he was more than happy to cede most of his KP time to Linda.


They carefully negotiated what they felt was a fair and equitable share of the grocery bill. Dan had insisted they discuss their living arrangements in some detail. The fact that Shawn and his wife were both strong Christians was the only reason Dan was willing to try the experiment–but still...


When things weren’t spelled-out, that led to misunderstandings. Misunderstandings that were tucked away to simmer and boil could lead to feuds–or even violence. Better be a bit redundant on the negotiations.


Dan thought he’d become really good at stretching his food dollar–and he had; but Linda knew some tricks that he hadn’t seen. Then Linda got a part-time job at the Supermarket. She only worked a few hours a week; but one of the fringe benefits was a modest discount on groceries; a bigger discount on a few select items; and first shot at stuff that they were going to throw away.


So for a short while they ate better, and has a bit more slack in their budgets–but it was too good to last...

************************************************** **************


Food prices crept upwards. Those generic oatmeal cookies that were a dollar fifty-seven, would go up to a buck sixty-five. It was hardly noticeable–except that it would happen several times in a year.
Or a can that had held sixteen ounces of beans, would be quietly downsized to fourteen and a half ounces–but the price would be the same. Then the next time, they’d adjust the mix to have a bit less beans, and more water. Then they’d cut back just a bit on the sugar and oats in the cookies, and make it up with more flour–and cut back and use lower quality spices in the mix too...


Then, having done everything else, it was time to hike the price again–but only by three or four cents this time.


Only these inconsequential increments came faster and faster–and when they were totaled and compounded over time, they were anything but inconsequential...

And many couldn’t figure out why their food budget didn’t go as far as it used to.


Gasoline was going up too–faster than the food prices. Dan generally stayed home; and Linda walked to her part-time job; but Shawn and Rita both needed to budget gas money–and gas would soon be over five bucks a gallon.


It had been a bad Summer in the US for crops–a long wet Spring that delayed planting; followed by a dry summer with a record breaking drought in the middle. All of Dan’s favorite websites predicted that food would go up dramatically by mid-Fall.

************************************************** **************


“You know, when Rita was a little girl–in First grade, the teacher asked them to bring a sweet potato from home, to grow in a jar. I guess it was in mid-September–just something to amuse the little ones” Dan said. “Do you remember, Rita?”

“Oh yes, Mrs Crabtree’s class.”

“So she brought it home right before Christmas break. We stuck it in the window, and watered it regularly. Come Spring, it was a big ole plant.

“My father planted it in the Elephant Ears bed, for some reason. You know, come Fall, I’ll bet we got half a bushel of sweet potatoes. The secret was the big head start that it got in life,” Dan finished.

“They do the same thing for all sorts of plants. They use greenhouses or planting beds to get the seedlings started early,” Shawn said.

“I know, but not to that extreme,” Dan said. “We got two big bay windows. Maybe we should start some potatoes and sweet potatoes.”

“We could grow a few other things too,” Shawn said.


Dan shook his head dismissively.

“We have so little room,” Dan said.


The city block they lived on didn’t have square corners, and by happenstance, Dan and Rita’s home had a small wedge-shaped back yard–although all their neighbors had much larger back yards.

“Ever hear of ‘Intensive Gardening’ “ Shawn asked.

“I know the theory, “ Dan said.

“Well I’ve done some. We could get more out of your back yard than you’d think. We can also plant some of our stuff in the front–like the potatoes–who would know?”

“Talk to Jake next door. He’s on dialyses. God knows that he can’t garden; but he might let you use his back yard for a share. That will be a big help this time next year–but first we have to get through this year,” Dan said.

“Did you ever do much hunting Dan?” Shawn asked.

“Not really. I always wanted to; but I didn’t have anyone to show me the ropes. I didn’t know the good spots. And when I was working, I didn’t have the time. When I was out of a job, I didn’t have the money, Besides, I was always tired,” Dan said.


Shawn had been to the range a couple times with Dan. He knew that Dan was an excellent shoot with rifle or pistol.


“I grew up hunting,” Said Shawn. “Living on the border between two states the way we do, we can legally harvest several deer between us–and we will–not to mention fish and small game...”

“Doesn’t everyone and his brother have the same idea, with times the way they are?” Dan asked.

“Yes and no. you said that you couldn’t afford to go hunting when you were broke. That will eliminate many would-be hunters. And many out there wandering around with a rifle, in sheer desperation, hoping to kick up a deer somehow–well, they’re no real competition, and they’ll get discouraged rather quickly. Trust me though. I know what I’m doing...”


Thus they made plans to get through the winter at least partly on the basis of plenty of Venison; and to put in a big garden the following Spring.

.....RVM45

[rvm45]

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Chapter Three



Now when Dan and Rita had been children, they’d argued which Dog should sleep with which of them. Their father, much like Solomon in one of his wise but highly unorthodox judgements, had declared that they should leave their doors to their rooms open, and let the Dogs decide who they wanted to share a bed with.


Dan and Rita were past childish squabbles; but they’d stuck to the guidelines their father had laid down all those decades ago. There was something in Dan’s character, that liked closed doors. Deep down, he felt that if there was a door, it was there to be shut–barring any compelling reason to the contrary.


His father had been the opposite. He’d looked at a closed door as a personal affront, and an offence against all that was good and holy in the World. Towards the end of his life, when at least arguably, all his mental cylinders weren’t firing in perfect time, he’d largely given up closing the door to the bathroom–to Dan’s considerable annoyance.


At any rate, Dan’s room had a short hallway with a right angle turn. Someone couldn’t look at him sleeping without stepping across his threshold, and being in Dan’s room proper. Then he’d hung a bead curtain across the far end of the hallway...


But all that wasn’t good enough to suit him, with roomies not related by blood–however congenial they might be. Also, he stored many of his Guns in his room–in the big Gunsafe, and a few ready for instant access. Shawn and Linda’s baby would be a toddler soon...


But on the other hand, Martha had shared a room with Dan since she was a little puppy. Shutting her out now, would certainly hurt both their feelings...


So Dan had a big metal reinforced door, with a built-in Doggy Door. When he slept at night, any of the Dogs could come in. When he left, he shut the door and locked it, and locked the Doggy Door as well. Hypothetically, someone could crawl through his Doggy Door while he was sleeping–but the odds of that seemed remote.

************************************************** **************


The alarm rang, stirring Dan to sluggish action. He’d never had a problem with falling back asleep, when it was time to get up; but on the other hand, he would be mighty slow and deliberate for the first twenty or thirty minutes.


Martha the huge Bloodhound lay with her back to Dan’s belly. Steve, the Miller’s Boston , was lying on the pillow next to Dan’s head. The black tomcat Ace, was lying on Dan’s pillow, with his back up against the back of Dan’s head. Marcus the Bull Mastiff, having despaired of finding room up on the bed, was curled up on the floor, at the foot of Dan’s bed. Marcus sometimes spent an hour or two in Rita’s room, the rest of them were pretty much fixtures in Dan’s room–unless they made a brief patrol of the house; grabbed a drink or a bite to eat; or went outside to defecate.


No, it wouldn’t be at all wise to try to crawl through Dan’s Doggy Door.


Sometimes when Dan struggled to turn over, in the midst of all the Dogs, he wished that he was somewhat less popular–though most of the time the attention flattered him.

************************************************** **************


Dan liked soft drinks, and he relied heavily on caffeine. Coffee was mildly unpleasant to him–but it was a much cheaper source of the Caffeine that he craved. And it seemed like warm Coffee worked faster than cold Coke. And Coffee didn’t cause him to gag, the way any sort of Tea did.


Dan sat drinking Coffee from a blue ceramic soup bowl–it held a little over three Coffee cups full–and past experience had taught him that was about what he needed to get his thing on. He sat and held his “Cup” in both hands; like he was taking part in a Japanese Tea Ritual–except he worked diligently to transfer the bitter-sweet; steaming liquid into himself as swiftly as possible; without scalding himself.


Shawn was explaining the hunt that they were going to go on. Shawn’s family hadn’t been poachers; but they definitely were Meat Hunters and Game Fishers. Shawn had topographical maps, and was a past master of organizing deer drives.

************************************************** **************


Times were hard, and if a man figured correctly, many sport hunters would have more money invested in a pound of Venison than it was worth–financially speaking. Many of those guys simply couldn’t afford to go hunting anymore. Then there were folks who’d sold their hunting rifles to pay the rent–or the heating bill, and there were good hunters who now lived in cities, and had no way to get to where the deer were.


The deer population had grown noticeably, with hunting somewhat in decline. Now that it was a bad year for crops, the depredations of the deer were even less welcome...


Consequently the Nation of Indiana and the Free Commonwealth of Kentucky had some of the most generous bag limits ever, on deer.


Dan and Shawn, and several mutual friends, started a sort of Venison Harvesting Co-op. They also took numerous Raccoon; Possum; Rabbit; Squirrel; Groundhogs; Quail; Doves–just whatever was in season. Spring and Summer they gathered a few edible plants–truly, only a few wild plants were worth bothering with–and ran a Trotline in the Ohio. In fall they harvested nuts–including acorns; and tapped Maple Trees for syrup.


Abandoned houses–with their attendant overgrown back yards were getting common enough that Shawn ran a small line of box traps right in the city.


Things hadn’t gotten bad enough yet, that there was total Anarchy. There wasn’t any way that the city was going to allow people to start installing simple wood burners. Nonetheless, the friends had the makings for a couple really nice double 55 gallon drum heaters; and plenty of extra chimney stove pipe. They tirelessly catched good clean wood (Wood without paint or preservatives on it). The tumbledown shed in the back, good for no other purpose, concealed what was almost a solid stack of dimensional lumber cut into one foot and eighteen inch lengths.

************************************************** **************


Dan had called a family meeting. He and Rita were there, along with both of the Millers–their infant was present as well, but Dan really didn’t expect him to take a big part in the discussion. The Dogs were also there, but as much as Dan considered them full partners, he knew of no way to poll their opinions on most items–so he was content to leave them as silent; non-voting partners.


“We are doing exceptionally well lately–especially compared to many others,” Dan began. “ Shawn and Linda brought their freezer. We’ve bought an extra half-size freezer...so basically, we have two and a half freezers full of wild meat–largely thanks to your expertise, Shawn.

“We have a lot of stuff canned–stuff from our gardens; stuff we bought cheap in bulk; and even a fair quantity of meat. We’ ve even added to our stocks of dried beans; rice; flour; noodles; sugar; salt; and coffee–our basic dry-goods.


“Of course we know that the present state of affairs–hard as it is–is too good to last...”


Dan stopped talking momentarily, and held up a finger. After a moments pause, everyone started pestering him with questions. He looked increasingly unhappy. Finally he resumed speaking with a fierce scowl on his face.


“How many times have I told y’all, that when I hold my finger up like that, TO LEAVE ME ALONE!? Is ‘Leave Me Alone’ a hard concept to grasp? Why can’t you do it?”

After a moment, Dan resumed.

“Man, I was hearing the neatest riff you ever heard. Never heard it before–may never hear it again...and I’ve got dimwits hollering in both ears!”

“What do you hear now?” Shawn asked.


Dan aped someone playing a Sitar, and did a fairly good job of verbalizing notes that sounded like Indian music–not real Indians, but Indians from India–Elephants; Lepers; the Taj Mahal...


“Then over dubbed with, ‘Come away with us, Human Child’ “ Dan added in a metallic monotone.


“Did you ever think that those voices may be Demonic?” Linda asked.

“That gives them too much credit. Everything except those Evil Little Faeries is an artifact of my ringing ears...since the ringing is very mild, and essentially random, the mind weaves it into semblances of patterns–in other words–Melodies,” Dan explained.


“What about the Faeries?” Shawn asked.

“Probably the same–but those Evil Little Humanoids are so persistent, that I wonder...but they’re not Demonic, if they were, the dogs couldn’t hear them...I don’t think...”

“Who says that the Dogs hear them?” Asked Rita.

“Because I can hear them, and I can see the Dogs react when they’re keening,” Dan said.

“Anyway, back to the main point–we should concentrate on stocking up as many reserves as we can. It may be Fall now, but Winter is coming–metaphorically speaking,” Dan said.

“If we were to take on any more folks, they should be chosen for their capacity to help us defend or scavenge...

“I mean that would be the Wise thing; the Prudent thing; the Optimum Strategy–but we’re Christians. The way I see it, sometimes we’re called to be foolish–not because we can’t figure the odds–but because we trust God to fix the game for us...” Dan said.

“So who do you want to take in?” Rita asked.

“A woman from my Church. She’s days away from being out on the street, and she’s got three children–thirteen; nine; and seven,” Dan said.

“Fine, “ Rita said briefly.

“Are you mad?” Dan asked.

“No, but I agree, and see no reason to prolong the discussion.”

“Shawn and Linda, what do you say? You’re part of the team too,” Dan asked.


Shawn looked at Linda, who gave some sort of signal that Dan didn’t catch.

“Where would we be, if you hadn’t taken us in? Sure, bring her,” Shawn said.


“There’s one other thing,” Rita said. “ Dan goes to a black church–at least almost all of the members are black–that means his friend is almost certainly...”

She looked toward Dan, who nodded.

“Y’all don’t have any hang-ups about black people? No? Well, call her and tell her to start packing Dan,” Rita finished.

So now they had three people staying in their mother’s old room, and four folks staying in what had been the family room (and had been a fully attached garage before that even) at the opposite end of the house.

At least, thought Dan, come winter the place should be considerably easier to heat, with all the body heat...

.....RVM45

[rvm45]

Short--but I've been slow, and didn't want to prolong the wait while I finished the next chapter.
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Chapter Four



Jake’s house was to the left of Dan and Rita’s house–as one faced front. Because of the odd angle that the streets ran at, his lot had over twice as many square feet as Dan’s.


Jake had bad kidneys–well, truth be told, he’d no longer had any kidneys at all. He’d survived solely by virtue of his home dialysis machine.


Now when he’d been healthy and working, he hadn’t been home very much. When kidney failure had forced him into early retirement, he’d spent most of his time inside. It was only after Dan’s people started using Jake’s yard regularly, that Dan and Jake had gotten to be friends...


Still, although Dan vaguely knew that Jake had no family, he’d been very surprised when Jake had died and willed Dan the house all free and clear–along with a modest amount of cash.


By this time, America was in the middle of a major depression. Loans were foreclosed, and people evicted from their homes right and left. There was all kinds of squatting and rent strikes going on–so if Dan had a few off-beat ideas about architecture, the Powers That Be had little or no time or resources to challenge him.

Jake’s house and Dan’s house were unusually close compared to the other houses in the Neighborhood–only about fifteen feet separated them. Dan had an addition built, that tied the two houses together–turning them into one big house.


Now like Dan’s house, Jake’s house had two modest bedrooms; a tiny gaol cell sized bedroom; a single bathroom; and a big family room that had started life as an attached garage. Dan figured that they only needed one kitchen–but bathrooms were at a premium. Part of Jake’s former kitchen became part of a third bathroom–and they managed to put a half bath–toilet and sink actually–on Dan’s side.


They had added several folks, along with more children, Dogs, cats, and even a ferret. Even the addition between the houses had room for four sets of bunk beds, and what they continued to call “Jake’s Half” had begun to resemble a dormitory–or hippy crash-pad.


The house on the right had been condemned; and the house directly behind them had partially burned. The city was getting downright obsessive about abandoned; boarded up; partially burned; or other unsightly testaments to dire circumstances. Dan bought both the lots from the city for a very small fee–in exchange for promising to return them to open lots, and not build any new structures. He even bargained to keep the back house’s two and a half car garage.


He wasn’t the only one buying up land. He had to split the lot next to the back house with another neighbor who was adding to his lot. It hardly mattered. With four and a half lots in his possession; and strategic squatting rights to several more, Dan almost had a small farm.

************************************************** **************


Now when Dan had been a small boy, back in the sixties, the population of America had been about two-hundred million. By the time Dan was in his mid-fifties, the population of America had grown to almost three-hundred million–a fifty percent increase.


The numbers felt about right to Dan. Actually, the population of Dan’s home town had shrunk by over ten percent. Nonetheless, they had diligently cleared the small woodlots and semi-rural areas both in town, and all around the edges of town–and the net effect was to make Dan feel as though he had about fifty percent less margin around his life.


Things had started to move the other way. The last decade had actually saw a decline in the population. There’d been a couple of modest flu pandemics. Now in Mid-Summer, there was at least five dangerous new flu strains on the horizon–three of them were felt to have record-breaking potential–though if things got that hectic, they probably wouldn’t be able to do more than guess which stain had hit the hardest.


Folks said–experts; scientists; statisticians–that by spring, the population of America might well be below two-hundred million once again...


Dan regretted that he was too old to see much of the New World. Once again, his own situation was enhanced. His hometown had shrunk another twelve or thirteen percent, and many of the city’s efforts to clear out the abandoned houses had effectively rolled back several decades of urban sprawl.


Dan tried to keep a positive attitude–but it wasn’t hard. He was never lonely. He was surrounded by congenial friends. But when he wanted solitude, he had one of the two private bedrooms in the Compound. (Rita had the other.)


He didn’t like to think of himself as an “Alpha Male”. He didn’t like Alpha Male types. H liked to think that he could try to deal with folks in terms of “Right; Reason; and Tolerance”. Anyone who tried to exchange Dominance Reciprocals got a very hostile response at their meetings...


But the fact remained–the Dogs thought of him as the pack leader–and they fell over themselves fawning on him. It made him a little sad, because while many people had tended to discount his father’s worth; the Dogs had never questioned his father’s right to reign supreme. Now they ceded him the same deference.


Maybe, just maybe, Dan began to think, he might yet be a worthy son.

And so it ends friends.

.....RVM45

[nancy1340]

I have to admit sometimes I have a hard time following your story lines. ;D

In the first chapter Rita says there will be no dogs in the house then we have three dogs and a cat sleeping with Dan. And apparently one of the dogs starts out sleeping with Rita then moves into Dan's room later in the night.

[rvm45]

They have several Dogs. Dan asking if he can have a Dog, when in point of fact he's knee deep in Dogs, is a sort of Running Joke beyween them.

.....RVM45

[patience]

Great to have an ending that lets our hero know he is a worthy fellow! Many times that is assumed in stories, but not clearly felt by the character.

Fine job!

[shannaredwind]

Great story.

I admit, I had to read the bit about the dogs a second time, but I picked up their joke on the second time through.

[willc453]

Maybe with Dan gaining self respect, he & the lady from the church or someone else in the neighborhood be interested in him? And how about a few "Christians" that talk the talk, but WON'T walk the walk?