Story Nann
- Thread starter Kathy in FL
- Start date
Catshooter
Contributing Member
Kathy,
Yay, a new story! Thank you. I really enjoy your stories that have the lead character like this one. Female and she's definitely a girl, but she doesn't spend too much time emoting all over the place. You've done characters like her before and I love 'em. Really admire women who are tough, strong and resourceful but still women. When you do them, you do them really well. Probably 'cause they're modeled after you!
Thanks again.
Cat
Yay, a new story! Thank you. I really enjoy your stories that have the lead character like this one. Female and she's definitely a girl, but she doesn't spend too much time emoting all over the place. You've done characters like her before and I love 'em. Really admire women who are tough, strong and resourceful but still women. When you do them, you do them really well. Probably 'cause they're modeled after you!
Thanks again.
Cat
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Most of us guys like them too and if we're lucky and very good boys, we get one to call partner
Chapter 5
I was still in a bit of snit from the scare. “You are so lucky I didn’t hit your head with the flashlight. You did plenty more than just startle me by landing on me like that.”
“That didn’t feel like a flashlight,” Mitch said rubbing his shoulder. He’d rolled off the sofa and it had taken us a minute to get untangled and figure out who the other was.
“It’s a mag light,” I told him, “A big one like the city cops carry. Dale gave it to me for Christmas.”
“You two buy the weirdest crap for each other. Dad says … said …” His voice slowly petered out.
When Mitch stopped talking completely I carefully asked, “You … uh … you up to letting me know what’s going on? I’m trying not to guess and freak myself out.”
His voice and attitude changed, and I could tell he was trying to take charge. Being male and older I was surprised he hadn’t tried before then. That was fine by me so when he demanded to hear my story first I gave it without him having to ask twice.
When I finished it was a moment before he said, “You drove up all the way from town. By yourself. And Dale let you.”
“Yes. Yes. And he didn’t really have a choice. He and Lisa are both pretty messed up where he had to rescue her from those trashy friends she hooked up with. I don’t know how he made it home. I really don’t know how he made it home carrying her.”
With utter contempt Mitch said, “Lisa’s a damn fruitcake. He should have left her and looked after you.”
Shrugging whether he could see it or not I told him, “He almost did. But what’s done is done. Your turn.”
Reluctantly he explained, “Dad thought Grammy went into a diabetic coma. Her blood sugar numbers were way off for about a week. Some days the meds didn’t seem to work and on some days they worked too much and she’d bottom out. One morning she just never woke up. Couldn’t raise anyone that said they’d be able to come out before … before …” He ran his hand through his already messy hair. “They said bag her and put her in the barn until the coroner could come out. Dad said to hell with that and marked the ground off and I dug the hole.”
“Uh …”
A touch of shame in his voice he said, “Yeah. Dad had to keep me inside the lines.”
“What … I mean …” I wasn’t sure how to ask about his eyesight.
He answered me anyway. Sorta. “Explosion. It’s not important right now.”
It obviously was but his tone told me to drop it. “OK. But …”
“Dad … I think he’d been halving his meds trying to make the pills last. That’s what he said right before …” He drifted off a moment then continued. “Grammy wasn’t exactly a lightweight. Getting her … getting her down in the hole knocked the wind out of me. Then I heard Dad make a funny noise and he stopped answering when I called. I had a hard time getting out without Dad lowering the ladder. Then I had to feel around for him. He grabbed me but couldn’t talk real good. A stroke. I’m pretty sure it was a stroke. He was garbled then suddenly started making sense, but he was weak. Told me not to bother getting him to the house ‘cause I’d just have to turn around and bring him right back out. Said when he went just to roll him in with Grammy, that they’d been taking care of each other for so many years he didn’t mind, and neither would she. Mother has that big fancy marker her kids put up but simple was more Dad’s style.” Real quietly he added, “And when he stopped breathing that’s what I did. And I filled the hole back in.”
“Sure did,” I told him. “I didn’t even see it until I tripped over the shovel.”
Still too solemn he said, “Good. That’s good. I wasn’t sure.”
“Er .. how … I mean you’re kinda messed up.”
“I kept falling in, then having to climb back out. Then I got turned around trying to get back to the house. I haven’ been that far away from the house since …” He coughed, clearing his throat. “Anyway, I finally found some stairs but thought they were the backstairs and misjudged out steep they were. I guess I hit my head.”
After a moment I asked, “You gonna punch me again if I tell you those bandages need changing?”
“Didn’t mean to the first time Dump. And no, I’ll do it. Just need to find something clean.”
“I’m first aid certified and have a big ol’ medical bag of stuff in the truck.” When he started to object I said, “Be practical. You need a shower and clean clothes. You take care of that and I’ll change the bandages after you get de-stinkified. I’ve already put a bucket of water in the bath so it should warmer than ice by now.”
He tried to guy up on me but I finally told him, “Don’t pull a Dale or a Stan on me. I’m really not in the mood to fight … not even a fight I’m guaranteed to win eventually.”
“Stan is your boyfriend, right? The skinny red head that is one giant freckle on top of one giant zit.”
“Don’t be mean. He outgrew the acne … mostly. And he was never really my boyfriend; Dad and Dale both said no.”
Mitch was silent for a moment before getting to his feet. “You are one strange kid.”
“Why? Because I know how to stay out of trouble?”
Gruffy he snapped, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Beats me,” I answered unwilling to cause an argument. “So, you gonna let me change those bandages?”
I was still in a bit of snit from the scare. “You are so lucky I didn’t hit your head with the flashlight. You did plenty more than just startle me by landing on me like that.”
“That didn’t feel like a flashlight,” Mitch said rubbing his shoulder. He’d rolled off the sofa and it had taken us a minute to get untangled and figure out who the other was.
“It’s a mag light,” I told him, “A big one like the city cops carry. Dale gave it to me for Christmas.”
“You two buy the weirdest crap for each other. Dad says … said …” His voice slowly petered out.
When Mitch stopped talking completely I carefully asked, “You … uh … you up to letting me know what’s going on? I’m trying not to guess and freak myself out.”
His voice and attitude changed, and I could tell he was trying to take charge. Being male and older I was surprised he hadn’t tried before then. That was fine by me so when he demanded to hear my story first I gave it without him having to ask twice.
When I finished it was a moment before he said, “You drove up all the way from town. By yourself. And Dale let you.”
“Yes. Yes. And he didn’t really have a choice. He and Lisa are both pretty messed up where he had to rescue her from those trashy friends she hooked up with. I don’t know how he made it home. I really don’t know how he made it home carrying her.”
With utter contempt Mitch said, “Lisa’s a damn fruitcake. He should have left her and looked after you.”
Shrugging whether he could see it or not I told him, “He almost did. But what’s done is done. Your turn.”
Reluctantly he explained, “Dad thought Grammy went into a diabetic coma. Her blood sugar numbers were way off for about a week. Some days the meds didn’t seem to work and on some days they worked too much and she’d bottom out. One morning she just never woke up. Couldn’t raise anyone that said they’d be able to come out before … before …” He ran his hand through his already messy hair. “They said bag her and put her in the barn until the coroner could come out. Dad said to hell with that and marked the ground off and I dug the hole.”
“Uh …”
A touch of shame in his voice he said, “Yeah. Dad had to keep me inside the lines.”
“What … I mean …” I wasn’t sure how to ask about his eyesight.
He answered me anyway. Sorta. “Explosion. It’s not important right now.”
It obviously was but his tone told me to drop it. “OK. But …”
“Dad … I think he’d been halving his meds trying to make the pills last. That’s what he said right before …” He drifted off a moment then continued. “Grammy wasn’t exactly a lightweight. Getting her … getting her down in the hole knocked the wind out of me. Then I heard Dad make a funny noise and he stopped answering when I called. I had a hard time getting out without Dad lowering the ladder. Then I had to feel around for him. He grabbed me but couldn’t talk real good. A stroke. I’m pretty sure it was a stroke. He was garbled then suddenly started making sense, but he was weak. Told me not to bother getting him to the house ‘cause I’d just have to turn around and bring him right back out. Said when he went just to roll him in with Grammy, that they’d been taking care of each other for so many years he didn’t mind, and neither would she. Mother has that big fancy marker her kids put up but simple was more Dad’s style.” Real quietly he added, “And when he stopped breathing that’s what I did. And I filled the hole back in.”
“Sure did,” I told him. “I didn’t even see it until I tripped over the shovel.”
Still too solemn he said, “Good. That’s good. I wasn’t sure.”
“Er .. how … I mean you’re kinda messed up.”
“I kept falling in, then having to climb back out. Then I got turned around trying to get back to the house. I haven’ been that far away from the house since …” He coughed, clearing his throat. “Anyway, I finally found some stairs but thought they were the backstairs and misjudged out steep they were. I guess I hit my head.”
After a moment I asked, “You gonna punch me again if I tell you those bandages need changing?”
“Didn’t mean to the first time Dump. And no, I’ll do it. Just need to find something clean.”
“I’m first aid certified and have a big ol’ medical bag of stuff in the truck.” When he started to object I said, “Be practical. You need a shower and clean clothes. You take care of that and I’ll change the bandages after you get de-stinkified. I’ve already put a bucket of water in the bath so it should warmer than ice by now.”
He tried to guy up on me but I finally told him, “Don’t pull a Dale or a Stan on me. I’m really not in the mood to fight … not even a fight I’m guaranteed to win eventually.”
“Stan is your boyfriend, right? The skinny red head that is one giant freckle on top of one giant zit.”
“Don’t be mean. He outgrew the acne … mostly. And he was never really my boyfriend; Dad and Dale both said no.”
Mitch was silent for a moment before getting to his feet. “You are one strange kid.”
“Why? Because I know how to stay out of trouble?”
Gruffy he snapped, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Beats me,” I answered unwilling to cause an argument. “So, you gonna let me change those bandages?”
Chapter 6
The expression on Mitch’s face was quite something to behold. “You did not just ask me that.”
I shrugged whether he could see me or not. “Sure I did. Exactly how blind are you?”
Mitch just sat at the table with a bite of biscuit halfway to his mouth. I told him, “Eat it before it gets cold and stale already. And answer my question. Er … please. I know it’s rude but if we’re gonna work together then we gotta make plans and the only way to do that is lay it all on the table so we each know what’s what. No faking, you know?”
Mitch shoved the bite of biscuit in his mouth before picking up his fork and feeling around for the scrambled eggs and ham I’d also put on his plate. Between careful mouthfuls he said, “You’ve been hanging around those weird friends of Dale’s too much.”
“They’re not weird … for the most part. And it’s turned out mostly for the good.” I stopped for a moment before adding, “I don’t mean to be a pain Mitch, but …”
He sighed and shook his head. “Naw. I’m just being sensitive or something stupid like that.”
Not buying it I told him, “Coulda fooled me. Seems more like you’re acting he-man and heroic and junk.”
“Yeah?” I heard him ask hopefully.
“Yeah. Totally. And it’s annoying so stop.”
“Well …,” he said then paused. “To be honest no one knows yest how it’s gonna turn out. I got caught during an incursion. There was an explosion … I don’t remember much. It was a one-two punch. The flash did some damage but then the concussion from the blast did too. I couldn’t see anything at first, so the military put me on indefinite medical leave without pay. A buddy – you remember Ralph Henderson – gave me a lift from the medivac station and Dad met us half way.”
“You said you couldn’t see anything ‘at first’.”
“I got … frustrated yesterday and tore off the bandages. I can see light but that’s about it. And it gave me a bad headache so I kept my eyes closed for the most part.”
“Well, that’s something.”
“Maybe.”
“No maybe. At least …”
“I get it Dump. Don’t go all Pollyanna.” I could tell he didn’t mean to snap at me, and kinda felt bad about it, but was just hardheaded enough that he’d rather be thought a jerk than soft. Guys. Honestly.
Getting my own brand of frustrated I snapped right back, “Fine. Here’s the facts then as Dale and I overheard from the people that were organizing the evacuation. People are getting mean and crazy, if they weren’t that way already. They didn’t expect the first incursion, and they sure didn’t expect the size of this last push with all the dirty crap that was pulled last night; no, night before last I guess. Texas is almost cut off now but still holding their own. The enemy picked up some of the Gulf Coast but they haven’t managed to take Mobile, Pensacola, Tampa, or Miami. They took out New Orleans by bombing the levies. Atlanta is burning again from homegrown stupids that can’t seem to stop rioting long enough to put their own house fire out. The military has taken over Memphis and the Coast Guard is all up and down the Mississippi trying to protect what shipping is left. We’ve almost totally lost southern Cali, both the coast and inland, and the fighting is creeping up the West Coast all the way to Oregon. There’s pockets of serious fighting in the West and Midwest, and now that it’s warming up, and the last of the snow is gone, we can expect things to heat up … no pun intended.” He tried to interrupt but I just kept talking. “And if that isn’t enough, the plans the Crew and I had made for our families just blew up and I don’t know if they made it to Geri’s or not …”
Confused, Mitch asked, “Aunt Geri?”
“Yeah.” Geri was Hy’s step-daughter but Dad’s … forget it. Family trees can get complicated in our neck of the woods. “They were going to the campground.”
“Whoa. Back up Dump. I thought you said they were at Stan’s father’s house.”
Obviously Mitch hadn’t heard everything I said last night, or had forgot it, so I had to back up and repeat myself. When I had finished and he was thinking about it I said, “I’m gonna go back to the ridge to see …”
“No. Uh uh. At least not until I can either drive or ride shotgun.”
His tone set me off again and I started feeling mulish. “Don’t you tell me …”
A different Mitch came out and I saw the guy he was turning into last couple of times I’d seen him before he joined the military. “Nann this is not negotiable. I’ll admit maybe you’ve got more going on than I’d like to give you credit for, but if they are pulling back as far as you have heard then we are right in the middle of a bad spot. We do not want to reveal our location or how vulnerable we are. If we’re not fodder for the enemy, then there’s friendly fire, and the local crazies. Grammy and I thought Dad was going too far when he told us he had dropped the bridge but now I’m damn glad he did. That will keep most of the crapheads out of here. Only year rounders that still live up this way is Donny Winters and that trash he married into. Dad said he hadn’t seen ‘em for a couple of weeks but that don’t mean nothing.”
I told him what I knew. “Donny Winters got arrested and then transferred to the border. It had something to do with contraband or something like that.”
Surprised and concerned both Mitch asked, “And how in the Sam Hill do you know that?”
“Dale. He and Daddy keep up with all the notices and stuff. They kept a lot of it from me, but that Dale let slip because they were hoping that meant that Donny’s brother PeeDee wouldn’t be around this summer like he was last.”
Mitch shook his head. Whether at how I knew or what he knew I didn’t bother trying to figure out. “PeeDee got drafted. I don’t know where he wound up, but we crossed tracks right before … before my … anyway he ain’t around unless he’s gone AWOL and I wouldn’t put it passed him. He’s a worthless little F@#$%&.”
“Mitch!”
With sarcasm dripping from every syllable Mitch said, “Oh sorry Princess Dumpling. Am I offending your delicate sensibilities?”
I chuckled without humor and answered, “No ‘cause I don’t have any. But if Daddy or Mom ask whether you’re being a crude jerk I’d like to be able to say no with a straight face. They’re freaking out enough as it is, and Dale wasn’t much better last time I saw him. I don’t want them to get a heroic hair and get hurt or dead trying to rescue me.”
He was sullenly quiet for a moment before surprising me with a brief grin. “You’re a strange girl Dump.” Then he sighed. “I’m serious about you not going off the farm. I don’t even want you out of sight of the house. And don’t give me grief about any kind of pun in that.”
Deciding compromise was wiser I said, “Fine on the Ridge. Those bombers I heard gave me the heebies anyway. But you’re going to have to give me more rope than that to take care of the orchard and Grammy’s gardens and all the rest of it. Hopefully Daddy and the rest of them …”
Then suddenly it all just hit me. I’m not a noisy crier but I guess even mostly blind Mitch could tell what was going on. He must have had some practice at some point because he turned out to be a pretty good shoulder to cry on and he managed to say some of the right things to help me get it back under control.
The expression on Mitch’s face was quite something to behold. “You did not just ask me that.”
I shrugged whether he could see me or not. “Sure I did. Exactly how blind are you?”
Mitch just sat at the table with a bite of biscuit halfway to his mouth. I told him, “Eat it before it gets cold and stale already. And answer my question. Er … please. I know it’s rude but if we’re gonna work together then we gotta make plans and the only way to do that is lay it all on the table so we each know what’s what. No faking, you know?”
Mitch shoved the bite of biscuit in his mouth before picking up his fork and feeling around for the scrambled eggs and ham I’d also put on his plate. Between careful mouthfuls he said, “You’ve been hanging around those weird friends of Dale’s too much.”
“They’re not weird … for the most part. And it’s turned out mostly for the good.” I stopped for a moment before adding, “I don’t mean to be a pain Mitch, but …”
He sighed and shook his head. “Naw. I’m just being sensitive or something stupid like that.”
Not buying it I told him, “Coulda fooled me. Seems more like you’re acting he-man and heroic and junk.”
“Yeah?” I heard him ask hopefully.
“Yeah. Totally. And it’s annoying so stop.”
“Well …,” he said then paused. “To be honest no one knows yest how it’s gonna turn out. I got caught during an incursion. There was an explosion … I don’t remember much. It was a one-two punch. The flash did some damage but then the concussion from the blast did too. I couldn’t see anything at first, so the military put me on indefinite medical leave without pay. A buddy – you remember Ralph Henderson – gave me a lift from the medivac station and Dad met us half way.”
“You said you couldn’t see anything ‘at first’.”
“I got … frustrated yesterday and tore off the bandages. I can see light but that’s about it. And it gave me a bad headache so I kept my eyes closed for the most part.”
“Well, that’s something.”
“Maybe.”
“No maybe. At least …”
“I get it Dump. Don’t go all Pollyanna.” I could tell he didn’t mean to snap at me, and kinda felt bad about it, but was just hardheaded enough that he’d rather be thought a jerk than soft. Guys. Honestly.
Getting my own brand of frustrated I snapped right back, “Fine. Here’s the facts then as Dale and I overheard from the people that were organizing the evacuation. People are getting mean and crazy, if they weren’t that way already. They didn’t expect the first incursion, and they sure didn’t expect the size of this last push with all the dirty crap that was pulled last night; no, night before last I guess. Texas is almost cut off now but still holding their own. The enemy picked up some of the Gulf Coast but they haven’t managed to take Mobile, Pensacola, Tampa, or Miami. They took out New Orleans by bombing the levies. Atlanta is burning again from homegrown stupids that can’t seem to stop rioting long enough to put their own house fire out. The military has taken over Memphis and the Coast Guard is all up and down the Mississippi trying to protect what shipping is left. We’ve almost totally lost southern Cali, both the coast and inland, and the fighting is creeping up the West Coast all the way to Oregon. There’s pockets of serious fighting in the West and Midwest, and now that it’s warming up, and the last of the snow is gone, we can expect things to heat up … no pun intended.” He tried to interrupt but I just kept talking. “And if that isn’t enough, the plans the Crew and I had made for our families just blew up and I don’t know if they made it to Geri’s or not …”
Confused, Mitch asked, “Aunt Geri?”
“Yeah.” Geri was Hy’s step-daughter but Dad’s … forget it. Family trees can get complicated in our neck of the woods. “They were going to the campground.”
“Whoa. Back up Dump. I thought you said they were at Stan’s father’s house.”
Obviously Mitch hadn’t heard everything I said last night, or had forgot it, so I had to back up and repeat myself. When I had finished and he was thinking about it I said, “I’m gonna go back to the ridge to see …”
“No. Uh uh. At least not until I can either drive or ride shotgun.”
His tone set me off again and I started feeling mulish. “Don’t you tell me …”
A different Mitch came out and I saw the guy he was turning into last couple of times I’d seen him before he joined the military. “Nann this is not negotiable. I’ll admit maybe you’ve got more going on than I’d like to give you credit for, but if they are pulling back as far as you have heard then we are right in the middle of a bad spot. We do not want to reveal our location or how vulnerable we are. If we’re not fodder for the enemy, then there’s friendly fire, and the local crazies. Grammy and I thought Dad was going too far when he told us he had dropped the bridge but now I’m damn glad he did. That will keep most of the crapheads out of here. Only year rounders that still live up this way is Donny Winters and that trash he married into. Dad said he hadn’t seen ‘em for a couple of weeks but that don’t mean nothing.”
I told him what I knew. “Donny Winters got arrested and then transferred to the border. It had something to do with contraband or something like that.”
Surprised and concerned both Mitch asked, “And how in the Sam Hill do you know that?”
“Dale. He and Daddy keep up with all the notices and stuff. They kept a lot of it from me, but that Dale let slip because they were hoping that meant that Donny’s brother PeeDee wouldn’t be around this summer like he was last.”
Mitch shook his head. Whether at how I knew or what he knew I didn’t bother trying to figure out. “PeeDee got drafted. I don’t know where he wound up, but we crossed tracks right before … before my … anyway he ain’t around unless he’s gone AWOL and I wouldn’t put it passed him. He’s a worthless little F@#$%&.”
“Mitch!”
With sarcasm dripping from every syllable Mitch said, “Oh sorry Princess Dumpling. Am I offending your delicate sensibilities?”
I chuckled without humor and answered, “No ‘cause I don’t have any. But if Daddy or Mom ask whether you’re being a crude jerk I’d like to be able to say no with a straight face. They’re freaking out enough as it is, and Dale wasn’t much better last time I saw him. I don’t want them to get a heroic hair and get hurt or dead trying to rescue me.”
He was sullenly quiet for a moment before surprising me with a brief grin. “You’re a strange girl Dump.” Then he sighed. “I’m serious about you not going off the farm. I don’t even want you out of sight of the house. And don’t give me grief about any kind of pun in that.”
Deciding compromise was wiser I said, “Fine on the Ridge. Those bombers I heard gave me the heebies anyway. But you’re going to have to give me more rope than that to take care of the orchard and Grammy’s gardens and all the rest of it. Hopefully Daddy and the rest of them …”
Then suddenly it all just hit me. I’m not a noisy crier but I guess even mostly blind Mitch could tell what was going on. He must have had some practice at some point because he turned out to be a pretty good shoulder to cry on and he managed to say some of the right things to help me get it back under control.
No. Didn't even think of that. LOL
Dump is a common knick name in my family. Not always appreciated this the younger generations.
Similar to "Sister" or "Sissy." I've been called that my entire life by all generations as have many of the girls up to my generation. The younger generations not so much. My grandfather called me "Sister." ROFL which greatly confused some people. My mother, who until the last couple of years really did look like my sister, called me Sissy in front of enough of her friends that we always had to untangle things. We looked a lot alike until she hit her 70s.
I just use names I'm familiar with I guess and forgot. I've had this story plotted out a few years.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you for more 
Chapter 7
“You ok now?”
“Yeah,” I said washing my face at the sink. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. You let it out or it busts you up inside.” He was silent for a moment then said, “You gonna be able to mind me Nann? It’s important that you can. I need to know I can trust you to listen.”
Trying not to get irritated all over again I told him, “I’m not stupid Mitch. I don’t have problems with that. You’re older than me. You’re a soldier with life experience I don’t have. Daddy would expect it. The whole nine yards. Just don’t be too unreasonable and let me know why if it looks like I don’t get it. When Dale started explaining things to me we both found out it didn’t have to be as hard as we were making it and it saved a lot of dog fights between us.”
With more honesty than I expected he replied, “Can’t always promise that. Sometimes you’re just gonna have to trust me like I’m gonna have to trust you.”
Seeing his point I said, “Ok. But Mitch, I’m not freaking out or anything but wouldn’t it be a good idea to … you know … inventory and figure out how set we are? Dale rode me hard when we were packing his truck with all the food and stuff from our house. He reminded me of Uncle Hy which is where he got the idea I guess.”
“Why?”
“Why inventory or why would he act like Uncle Hy?”
“Why inventory the food,” he answered.
“’Cause there wasn’t a lot of it. That’s why Daddy and Mom were out of town and Dale was watching me. They had gone to get groceries to try and get around all the rationing. They took Mom’s silver service and a bunch of other stuff and planned to try and … you know … trade it.”
Hearing what I wasn’t saying he guessed, “Uncle John was gonna go to a black market?”
“Beats me,” I answered. “Dale let a few things slip from time to time but not much. I think Daddy made him promise or something. We had already packed most of that stuff away anyway because of all the break ins and robberies. Dale and I brought what was left but most of it is heirloom junk, not real treasure. There’s a couple of big tubs still on the truck that I can’t move.”
“You sure you put the truck in the tractor barn?”
Wanting to act on my irritation I answered, “No. I drove it to the top of the chicken coop then put out a sign that says come steal Dale’s truck, he won’t mind.” I snorted. “Will you please treat me like I’ve got at least a little sense?”
“Okay Dump, turn your burner down. I can’t exactly see you know.”
“So? You expect me to lie to you? ‘Cause I already told you where I put it after you tripped over the boxes on the porch.”
This time he snorted. “Fine. And that’s the first thing we’ll do is get that stuff inside.”
“No. The first thing is you need me to help feed them mean ol’ hogs. Two of them charged me last night and I am not getting hog bit.”
“So you want me to get hog bit,” he said with a smart aleck grin.
“Mitch! You know what I mean. And why’s there so many of them?! Some of those oversized monsters are skinny and extra ornery.”
He nodded then leaned back in his chair making me want me to pull a Grammy on him and swat him with a flyswatter for having only two legs of the chair on the floor instead of all four. While I was considering the possible consequences of such retaliation he asked, “You remember Mr. Kirkland?”
“Yeah.” Doubtless Mitch could hear the caution in my voice though I doubt he knew the reason for it.
“He got some kind of dementia real bad real fast over the winter. Let his place get awful or so Grammy said in one of her letters. The county came and took Kirkland – he ran his kids off with his drinking ‘fore I was in high school – but no one did anything about his pace or the animals. Sheriff tried to get Helen (she’s the oldest) ..."
"The nice lady that Grammy buy ... bought ... her quilting fabric from?"
"Yeah, her. And she's only nice to select people. And her ol' man isn't one of 'em. The Sheriff tried to get her to come take care of the farm thinking it would help her out of some financial situation her husband had gotten them into, but she wouldn't have anything to do with that idea and said to burn it down or give it away, that she didn’t want nothing to do with it and neither did the others. Proved to be true when the Sheriff went down the line trying to find one to take it on. They had the place on the block, and a few people came around, but they took one look – this from Dad’s letters – saw how broke down it all was, and ran off lickety split. Grammy said Dad finally couldn’t stand to see the animals suffering no more and fetched them, what was left of their feed, and some other stuff back to our place.”
“Wow,” I said surprised. “The Sheriff didn’t say anything?”
“Nope. Grammy said he ‘had more pressing problems to attend to’ and was actually relieved somebody else took it on. Mr. Kirkland … well he wasn’t … hmmm …”
“I know,” letting Mitch off the hook about how to explain the old man. “Uncle Hy explained after I ran back here last Spring scared ‘cause Mr. Kirkland had taken his belt off and was gonna hit me for feeding his cows from grass on Uncle Hy’s side of the fence.”
“He what?!”
“Daddy just about went nuts all over Mr. Kirkland. Then Uncle Hy got between ‘em and wanted to know why he’d come after me and that’s when Mr. Kirkland claimed I’d been feeding his cows clover. Well that made me mad because I have more sense than to feed a cow clover and maybe kill it with the bloat. I nearly cried at being thought so cruel. Mr. Kirkland kinda sorta apologized when Uncle Hy backed me up saying I took care of his cows real good and that he’d taught me himself. Daddy didn’t care, he forbid me from messing with Mr. Kirkland’s animals no matter if it was just to be nice or not. He almost didn’t want me coming to the farm any more until Uncle Hy talked him down out of the rafters. But it was also then that Uncle Hy explained about Mr. Kirkland’s wife not being what you would call a good woman and her running off, leaving him with little kids, and then him turning to drink instead of dealing with his problems with more sense.”
Mitch sneered. “Yeah. Real sob story and I’ve got my own but you ain’t gonna catch me drownin’ ‘em with drink. Way too many idiots in this world if you ask me. Now let’s go feed the hogs. Cow’s probably going crazy to be milked too.”
Proving I had more sense than he expected I said, “No. I did her last night and I let her calf have the morning milk.”
“Well ain’t you just about half smart. Did you get the chickens?”
“Yea ‘cause the rooster wouldn’t shut up. But I need to get the eggs.”
“You ok now?”
“Yeah,” I said washing my face at the sink. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. You let it out or it busts you up inside.” He was silent for a moment then said, “You gonna be able to mind me Nann? It’s important that you can. I need to know I can trust you to listen.”
Trying not to get irritated all over again I told him, “I’m not stupid Mitch. I don’t have problems with that. You’re older than me. You’re a soldier with life experience I don’t have. Daddy would expect it. The whole nine yards. Just don’t be too unreasonable and let me know why if it looks like I don’t get it. When Dale started explaining things to me we both found out it didn’t have to be as hard as we were making it and it saved a lot of dog fights between us.”
With more honesty than I expected he replied, “Can’t always promise that. Sometimes you’re just gonna have to trust me like I’m gonna have to trust you.”
Seeing his point I said, “Ok. But Mitch, I’m not freaking out or anything but wouldn’t it be a good idea to … you know … inventory and figure out how set we are? Dale rode me hard when we were packing his truck with all the food and stuff from our house. He reminded me of Uncle Hy which is where he got the idea I guess.”
“Why?”
“Why inventory or why would he act like Uncle Hy?”
“Why inventory the food,” he answered.
“’Cause there wasn’t a lot of it. That’s why Daddy and Mom were out of town and Dale was watching me. They had gone to get groceries to try and get around all the rationing. They took Mom’s silver service and a bunch of other stuff and planned to try and … you know … trade it.”
Hearing what I wasn’t saying he guessed, “Uncle John was gonna go to a black market?”
“Beats me,” I answered. “Dale let a few things slip from time to time but not much. I think Daddy made him promise or something. We had already packed most of that stuff away anyway because of all the break ins and robberies. Dale and I brought what was left but most of it is heirloom junk, not real treasure. There’s a couple of big tubs still on the truck that I can’t move.”
“You sure you put the truck in the tractor barn?”
Wanting to act on my irritation I answered, “No. I drove it to the top of the chicken coop then put out a sign that says come steal Dale’s truck, he won’t mind.” I snorted. “Will you please treat me like I’ve got at least a little sense?”
“Okay Dump, turn your burner down. I can’t exactly see you know.”
“So? You expect me to lie to you? ‘Cause I already told you where I put it after you tripped over the boxes on the porch.”
This time he snorted. “Fine. And that’s the first thing we’ll do is get that stuff inside.”
“No. The first thing is you need me to help feed them mean ol’ hogs. Two of them charged me last night and I am not getting hog bit.”
“So you want me to get hog bit,” he said with a smart aleck grin.
“Mitch! You know what I mean. And why’s there so many of them?! Some of those oversized monsters are skinny and extra ornery.”
He nodded then leaned back in his chair making me want me to pull a Grammy on him and swat him with a flyswatter for having only two legs of the chair on the floor instead of all four. While I was considering the possible consequences of such retaliation he asked, “You remember Mr. Kirkland?”
“Yeah.” Doubtless Mitch could hear the caution in my voice though I doubt he knew the reason for it.
“He got some kind of dementia real bad real fast over the winter. Let his place get awful or so Grammy said in one of her letters. The county came and took Kirkland – he ran his kids off with his drinking ‘fore I was in high school – but no one did anything about his pace or the animals. Sheriff tried to get Helen (she’s the oldest) ..."
"The nice lady that Grammy buy ... bought ... her quilting fabric from?"
"Yeah, her. And she's only nice to select people. And her ol' man isn't one of 'em. The Sheriff tried to get her to come take care of the farm thinking it would help her out of some financial situation her husband had gotten them into, but she wouldn't have anything to do with that idea and said to burn it down or give it away, that she didn’t want nothing to do with it and neither did the others. Proved to be true when the Sheriff went down the line trying to find one to take it on. They had the place on the block, and a few people came around, but they took one look – this from Dad’s letters – saw how broke down it all was, and ran off lickety split. Grammy said Dad finally couldn’t stand to see the animals suffering no more and fetched them, what was left of their feed, and some other stuff back to our place.”
“Wow,” I said surprised. “The Sheriff didn’t say anything?”
“Nope. Grammy said he ‘had more pressing problems to attend to’ and was actually relieved somebody else took it on. Mr. Kirkland … well he wasn’t … hmmm …”
“I know,” letting Mitch off the hook about how to explain the old man. “Uncle Hy explained after I ran back here last Spring scared ‘cause Mr. Kirkland had taken his belt off and was gonna hit me for feeding his cows from grass on Uncle Hy’s side of the fence.”
“He what?!”
“Daddy just about went nuts all over Mr. Kirkland. Then Uncle Hy got between ‘em and wanted to know why he’d come after me and that’s when Mr. Kirkland claimed I’d been feeding his cows clover. Well that made me mad because I have more sense than to feed a cow clover and maybe kill it with the bloat. I nearly cried at being thought so cruel. Mr. Kirkland kinda sorta apologized when Uncle Hy backed me up saying I took care of his cows real good and that he’d taught me himself. Daddy didn’t care, he forbid me from messing with Mr. Kirkland’s animals no matter if it was just to be nice or not. He almost didn’t want me coming to the farm any more until Uncle Hy talked him down out of the rafters. But it was also then that Uncle Hy explained about Mr. Kirkland’s wife not being what you would call a good woman and her running off, leaving him with little kids, and then him turning to drink instead of dealing with his problems with more sense.”
Mitch sneered. “Yeah. Real sob story and I’ve got my own but you ain’t gonna catch me drownin’ ‘em with drink. Way too many idiots in this world if you ask me. Now let’s go feed the hogs. Cow’s probably going crazy to be milked too.”
Proving I had more sense than he expected I said, “No. I did her last night and I let her calf have the morning milk.”
“Well ain’t you just about half smart. Did you get the chickens?”
“Yea ‘cause the rooster wouldn’t shut up. But I need to get the eggs.”
RememberGoliad
Veteran Member
Just got set down to read a bit, and found a LOT of story. Thank you!
I'm gonna put two more chapters up tonight. My weekend looks very busy so I don't know how much online time I'm going to get.
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Chapter 8
“Hogs, cows, fowl, mules, and goats.”
Mitch snorted barn smell out of his nose then said, “EIEIO. And I hope this is the last of the stuff from the truck ‘cause I need a break.”
“Me too,” I agreed. “There’s a little bit of stuff left but its light and mostly my clothes and bedding in compression bags. I’ll get it once I make a place for it. Can I use the same room?”
Tired and getting cranky from a headache he asked, “Why in the Sam Hill should I care what room you use?”
Stating the obvious I told him, “’Cause it’s your house.”
That stopped him and I could see the grief crowding in on him. Less cranky and more sorrowful he finally said, “Yeah, yeah I guess it is. I knew it would be one day – at least a share of it – but I … I didn’t want to think it would happen this soon.”
I patted his arm but stayed out of his space until I saw it wouldn’t set him off if I hugged him. Mitch never has liked being crowded so when I recognized the signs I stepped back and said, “I’m gonna fry some bologna for lunch if that’s okay.”
Obviously struggling but trying to pull himself together he answered, “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good. Can … can you fix some sweet tea? I’m about tired of water at every meal.”
“I started a jug of sun tea this morning. Should be enough for lunch and supper. Might not have a lot of sugar in it though, I only brought a 20-pound bag as that’s all we had left. And if that’s all there is …”
“Rationing. Yeah. Let’s eat lunch then let’s get on that inventory. Listening to you run off at the mouth all morning has my head on tighter than it has been in a while.”
That’s what Mom would call a back-handed compliment but I’m not gonna complain. There’s just days where you take what you can get and ignore the rest.
# # # # #
Inventory was mostly finished; I just had to count the hams in the smokehouse and the sausage and other stuff in the gas freezer in the basement. Supper was finished as well, and the dishes were too; Mitch helped with that surprising me. He then said he was going to listen to the radio which was Mitch-speak for “go away kid, I need some space.” Which I gave him after changing the wrap on his bandages since it had gotten really dirty again.
Mitch wasn’t the only one that needed space. A text had finally made it through the queue, but it wasn’t from Dad or Dale or even Stan, but from Uncle Day-Day. The caravan made it to Geri’s, but they’d lost a car along the way and Dad had gotten a little banged up, but nothing life-threatening. Electricity and fuel were being rationed where they were, but the camp was set up for that and the Crew was already helping everyone to get set up in individual family cabins. The radio said cell and landlines were likely to be up and down quite often and even when they weren’t down, communication into combat zones would be prohibited. Translation, no telling when I would hear from them again and even though they were well inside a safe zone life was going to be much more difficult for them than it had been. The war is getting very close and very real for everyone. He at least let me know no supplies were lost and that Dad’s phone couldn’t get a signal and that he was resting and Mom had asked him to send the text. He also said Lisa was as well as could be expected and sorry she’d created the situation that had separated us.
I texted back letting him know I received his text, understood the restrictions, that everything was okay here, that Mitch was here on medical leave and was looking after me, and that I loved everyone including Lisa. I didn’t tell them everything though and it made me feel bad.
Mitch said, “Security. Better not to put certain things where other people can see them.”
“But I feel so bad not telling them about Grammy and Uncle Hy.”
A little rougher than maybe he meant Mitch said, “Dad would be the first one to tell you that you made the right choice. And your folks will understand too when the time does come to tell them. You’re protecting Dad’s interest as much as our own so knock it off. You think I like lying by ommission to Uncle John and Aunt Dina? But it has to be done.”
In addition to all of that I had the result of the inventory to think about. Having me around a lot last year, Grammy had been able to preserve all the extra out of the orchard and gardens rather than it go to waste or tossed to the animals. She even had me gathering the wild stuff most people didn’t eat anymore. But I had a feeling that might be changing because of the rationing. Or maybe not, people can be stupid.
I had also helped Uncle Hy cull the non-layers from the chicken flock and then helped Grammy preserve the meat by canning and freezing it. Did the same thing with the turkeys, ducks, and geese. The guineas and quail were only frozen. Apparently before she got sick, Grammy had made plans for me to do even more of that this summer. She’d started to clean out the overfilled freezer by converting all the meat in there to soups, stews, and the like. I’d need to finish that job and would have to do it on the wood burning stove in the outdoor canning kitchen since Mitch didn’t know how much gas was left in the Big House tanks. The fruit and vegetable freezer wasn’t much better so I would need to do something with all that as well. And all of it real quick.
I remember Mom crying over the ruining food in our freezer when they started rationing electricity and then how surprised she was when I was able to save most of it by canning using the jars and equipment Grammy had given me for my hope chest. I think it is the first time that Mom was one hundred percent okay with me spending so much time with Grammy. She knew I was never going to be her doppelgänger and into the family business and stuff, but she’d never been completely comfortable with me going the direction she thought I was going either. She wanted me to keep my options open and get to go to more than just the local community college for a couple of years. I’m pretty sure that Mom would have been surprised to find out Grammy wanted me to keep my options open too. She just wanted to teach me a few things, more for memories than because she thought I’d really wind up using the things she taught me as much as she had at my age.
Grammy was always very happy when I came for a visit, which was pretty often. Mom and Daddy’s business required them to travel a lot, sometimes without much notice. My school was portable ‘cause it was internet-based so Mom didn’t have a problem letting me spend a long weekend with Grammy and Uncle Hy on a regular basis. Dale would go work with Uncle Day-Day and I was farmed out to Grammy … no pun intended.
And Uncle Hy may have lived in the boonies, but he was an old techie with satellite internet access. Of course none of that worked now that the government used its nuclear option to disable online access to all but the military right after the attacks started.
Mitch had a good idea which we used. Despite the lack of internet, I still had a tablet that worked and would power up with my solar charger. He told me to disable the wifi, put it on airplane mode, then use the spread sheet app I had to track the stuff we were counting as we went along. It made counting and tracking easier; but, it also quickly showed where there were holes.
I’m not going to be able to bake up platters of biscuits, loaf upon loaf of bread, dozens of cookies, and a bunch of stuff like that. There are a bunch of ten-pound bags of flour and cornmeal in the chest freezer but since I don’t know when or how to get more it’s gonna have to be the first thing that get’s rationed.
There’s more sweeteners than I expected because of Grammy getting diagnosed with diabetes last year, but she probably laid it in for canning – before the war anyway – or to annoy Uncle Hy and her doctors … or maybe both. Grammy said her age should make her free of getting bossed around, not more like everyone always seemed to try to do for her own good.
In addition to regular sweeteners like white sugar, brown sugar, powdered sugar, and the like, Grammy laid in molasses, sorghum, corn syrup, Karo syrup maple syrup, and a few other local products. In addition to the regular kinds of sweeteners I already mentioned, there is the specialty sugars like for holiday baking (coarse, natural, turbinado, colored decorator types), and then there were some weird things like Splenda, Stevia, sugar cubes, vanilla and lavender sugars (for tea), and then some really weird stuff like date sugar and agave syrup and something called Monkfruit of all things. I think the weird stuff was Grammy experimenting to find something that she could use that would satisfy her and her doctors.
Then there was the honey from Uncle Hy’s hives. Mitch cussed really awful when he nearly broke his neck tripping on the five-gallon buckets of that stuff that was down in the basement instead of out in the bee shed like it normally is.
“Why didn’t you warn me?!”
“Why didn’t you wait for me like I asked?! I nearly fell down the stairs trying to find the pull string on the light and get down to make sure you weren’t dead! How was I supposed to know that Uncle Hy’s been moving things around!”
He opened his mouth then closed it and neither one of us said anything else. He did start waiting for me when I asked him to. Score one for me.
I don’t know if anything but the white sugar and honey can be used for canning. I’ll have to think of ways to use the other stuff to save using the other when that’s the only thing I can use.
I already have a crapton of stuff to do in the garden ‘cause Grammy and Uncle Hy had enough stuff started that it’s obvious they had planned on either family coming to the home place to live or at least for providing food. I asked Mitch if he figured any of them would show up and he shrugged and said, “How am I supposed to know? I doubt most of them can or will unless they have no other option. And if we are now in a combat zone, or at least not a declared safe zone, it is even less likely. Your Dad and Uncle David were the two most … uh … you aren’t crying again are you?”
I sniffed and told him, “Shut up.”
He sighed. “Don’t mind me Dump. I’m just topped off. You can kick me if you absolutely need to. Just pick a spot that isn’t already banged up.”
The way he said it made me kinda laugh which was what he was after I guess, but it wasn’t too long after that he needed space and I needed to go and get my own space too. He is lucky I am used to dealing with males of my species or I might have taken him up on the idea of kicking him. I hadn’t been upset by the family not coming, not really. It was realizing I only had at most three months’ worth of my feminine hygiene supplies. Grammy had some special supplies ‘cause sometimes she … well honestly it’s just one of those things women apparently have issues with as they get older. I figure I can repurpose those things maybe, but I will kill Mitch until he is completely and totally dead if he figures it out and says something.
And that stuff got me thinking about the other stuff that had been getting hard to find in town – deodorant, toothpaste, soap, shampoo, washing detergent, and bleach. Grammy and Uncle Hy have a farm sized supply of laundry stuff but pretty soon here it looks like Mitch and I are going to be brushing our teeth with denture cream. Yuck.
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Chapter 8
“Hogs, cows, fowl, mules, and goats.”
Mitch snorted barn smell out of his nose then said, “EIEIO. And I hope this is the last of the stuff from the truck ‘cause I need a break.”
“Me too,” I agreed. “There’s a little bit of stuff left but its light and mostly my clothes and bedding in compression bags. I’ll get it once I make a place for it. Can I use the same room?”
Tired and getting cranky from a headache he asked, “Why in the Sam Hill should I care what room you use?”
Stating the obvious I told him, “’Cause it’s your house.”
That stopped him and I could see the grief crowding in on him. Less cranky and more sorrowful he finally said, “Yeah, yeah I guess it is. I knew it would be one day – at least a share of it – but I … I didn’t want to think it would happen this soon.”
I patted his arm but stayed out of his space until I saw it wouldn’t set him off if I hugged him. Mitch never has liked being crowded so when I recognized the signs I stepped back and said, “I’m gonna fry some bologna for lunch if that’s okay.”
Obviously struggling but trying to pull himself together he answered, “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good. Can … can you fix some sweet tea? I’m about tired of water at every meal.”
“I started a jug of sun tea this morning. Should be enough for lunch and supper. Might not have a lot of sugar in it though, I only brought a 20-pound bag as that’s all we had left. And if that’s all there is …”
“Rationing. Yeah. Let’s eat lunch then let’s get on that inventory. Listening to you run off at the mouth all morning has my head on tighter than it has been in a while.”
That’s what Mom would call a back-handed compliment but I’m not gonna complain. There’s just days where you take what you can get and ignore the rest.
# # # # #
Inventory was mostly finished; I just had to count the hams in the smokehouse and the sausage and other stuff in the gas freezer in the basement. Supper was finished as well, and the dishes were too; Mitch helped with that surprising me. He then said he was going to listen to the radio which was Mitch-speak for “go away kid, I need some space.” Which I gave him after changing the wrap on his bandages since it had gotten really dirty again.
Mitch wasn’t the only one that needed space. A text had finally made it through the queue, but it wasn’t from Dad or Dale or even Stan, but from Uncle Day-Day. The caravan made it to Geri’s, but they’d lost a car along the way and Dad had gotten a little banged up, but nothing life-threatening. Electricity and fuel were being rationed where they were, but the camp was set up for that and the Crew was already helping everyone to get set up in individual family cabins. The radio said cell and landlines were likely to be up and down quite often and even when they weren’t down, communication into combat zones would be prohibited. Translation, no telling when I would hear from them again and even though they were well inside a safe zone life was going to be much more difficult for them than it had been. The war is getting very close and very real for everyone. He at least let me know no supplies were lost and that Dad’s phone couldn’t get a signal and that he was resting and Mom had asked him to send the text. He also said Lisa was as well as could be expected and sorry she’d created the situation that had separated us.
I texted back letting him know I received his text, understood the restrictions, that everything was okay here, that Mitch was here on medical leave and was looking after me, and that I loved everyone including Lisa. I didn’t tell them everything though and it made me feel bad.
Mitch said, “Security. Better not to put certain things where other people can see them.”
“But I feel so bad not telling them about Grammy and Uncle Hy.”
A little rougher than maybe he meant Mitch said, “Dad would be the first one to tell you that you made the right choice. And your folks will understand too when the time does come to tell them. You’re protecting Dad’s interest as much as our own so knock it off. You think I like lying by ommission to Uncle John and Aunt Dina? But it has to be done.”
In addition to all of that I had the result of the inventory to think about. Having me around a lot last year, Grammy had been able to preserve all the extra out of the orchard and gardens rather than it go to waste or tossed to the animals. She even had me gathering the wild stuff most people didn’t eat anymore. But I had a feeling that might be changing because of the rationing. Or maybe not, people can be stupid.
I had also helped Uncle Hy cull the non-layers from the chicken flock and then helped Grammy preserve the meat by canning and freezing it. Did the same thing with the turkeys, ducks, and geese. The guineas and quail were only frozen. Apparently before she got sick, Grammy had made plans for me to do even more of that this summer. She’d started to clean out the overfilled freezer by converting all the meat in there to soups, stews, and the like. I’d need to finish that job and would have to do it on the wood burning stove in the outdoor canning kitchen since Mitch didn’t know how much gas was left in the Big House tanks. The fruit and vegetable freezer wasn’t much better so I would need to do something with all that as well. And all of it real quick.
I remember Mom crying over the ruining food in our freezer when they started rationing electricity and then how surprised she was when I was able to save most of it by canning using the jars and equipment Grammy had given me for my hope chest. I think it is the first time that Mom was one hundred percent okay with me spending so much time with Grammy. She knew I was never going to be her doppelgänger and into the family business and stuff, but she’d never been completely comfortable with me going the direction she thought I was going either. She wanted me to keep my options open and get to go to more than just the local community college for a couple of years. I’m pretty sure that Mom would have been surprised to find out Grammy wanted me to keep my options open too. She just wanted to teach me a few things, more for memories than because she thought I’d really wind up using the things she taught me as much as she had at my age.
Grammy was always very happy when I came for a visit, which was pretty often. Mom and Daddy’s business required them to travel a lot, sometimes without much notice. My school was portable ‘cause it was internet-based so Mom didn’t have a problem letting me spend a long weekend with Grammy and Uncle Hy on a regular basis. Dale would go work with Uncle Day-Day and I was farmed out to Grammy … no pun intended.
And Uncle Hy may have lived in the boonies, but he was an old techie with satellite internet access. Of course none of that worked now that the government used its nuclear option to disable online access to all but the military right after the attacks started.
Mitch had a good idea which we used. Despite the lack of internet, I still had a tablet that worked and would power up with my solar charger. He told me to disable the wifi, put it on airplane mode, then use the spread sheet app I had to track the stuff we were counting as we went along. It made counting and tracking easier; but, it also quickly showed where there were holes.
I’m not going to be able to bake up platters of biscuits, loaf upon loaf of bread, dozens of cookies, and a bunch of stuff like that. There are a bunch of ten-pound bags of flour and cornmeal in the chest freezer but since I don’t know when or how to get more it’s gonna have to be the first thing that get’s rationed.
There’s more sweeteners than I expected because of Grammy getting diagnosed with diabetes last year, but she probably laid it in for canning – before the war anyway – or to annoy Uncle Hy and her doctors … or maybe both. Grammy said her age should make her free of getting bossed around, not more like everyone always seemed to try to do for her own good.
In addition to regular sweeteners like white sugar, brown sugar, powdered sugar, and the like, Grammy laid in molasses, sorghum, corn syrup, Karo syrup maple syrup, and a few other local products. In addition to the regular kinds of sweeteners I already mentioned, there is the specialty sugars like for holiday baking (coarse, natural, turbinado, colored decorator types), and then there were some weird things like Splenda, Stevia, sugar cubes, vanilla and lavender sugars (for tea), and then some really weird stuff like date sugar and agave syrup and something called Monkfruit of all things. I think the weird stuff was Grammy experimenting to find something that she could use that would satisfy her and her doctors.
Then there was the honey from Uncle Hy’s hives. Mitch cussed really awful when he nearly broke his neck tripping on the five-gallon buckets of that stuff that was down in the basement instead of out in the bee shed like it normally is.
“Why didn’t you warn me?!”
“Why didn’t you wait for me like I asked?! I nearly fell down the stairs trying to find the pull string on the light and get down to make sure you weren’t dead! How was I supposed to know that Uncle Hy’s been moving things around!”
He opened his mouth then closed it and neither one of us said anything else. He did start waiting for me when I asked him to. Score one for me.
I don’t know if anything but the white sugar and honey can be used for canning. I’ll have to think of ways to use the other stuff to save using the other when that’s the only thing I can use.
I already have a crapton of stuff to do in the garden ‘cause Grammy and Uncle Hy had enough stuff started that it’s obvious they had planned on either family coming to the home place to live or at least for providing food. I asked Mitch if he figured any of them would show up and he shrugged and said, “How am I supposed to know? I doubt most of them can or will unless they have no other option. And if we are now in a combat zone, or at least not a declared safe zone, it is even less likely. Your Dad and Uncle David were the two most … uh … you aren’t crying again are you?”
I sniffed and told him, “Shut up.”
He sighed. “Don’t mind me Dump. I’m just topped off. You can kick me if you absolutely need to. Just pick a spot that isn’t already banged up.”
The way he said it made me kinda laugh which was what he was after I guess, but it wasn’t too long after that he needed space and I needed to go and get my own space too. He is lucky I am used to dealing with males of my species or I might have taken him up on the idea of kicking him. I hadn’t been upset by the family not coming, not really. It was realizing I only had at most three months’ worth of my feminine hygiene supplies. Grammy had some special supplies ‘cause sometimes she … well honestly it’s just one of those things women apparently have issues with as they get older. I figure I can repurpose those things maybe, but I will kill Mitch until he is completely and totally dead if he figures it out and says something.
And that stuff got me thinking about the other stuff that had been getting hard to find in town – deodorant, toothpaste, soap, shampoo, washing detergent, and bleach. Grammy and Uncle Hy have a farm sized supply of laundry stuff but pretty soon here it looks like Mitch and I are going to be brushing our teeth with denture cream. Yuck.
Chapter 9
“Dammit to hell!”
In exasperation as he kicked another piece out of my reach I told Mitch, “Stop yelling. It was just a saucer. I shoulda made better care that you had ahold of it.”
“Yeah ‘cause I’m blind as a f@#$%&* bat.”
“No. ‘Cause your hands are wet and mine are soapy. You know, to be twenty-one you sure can throw a tantrum. And a stupid one at that.”
“Nann …” he growled in warning.
But I had had enough. “Oh kiss my left big toe and stop feeling story for yourself. You dropped a freaking saucer. It ain’t the end of the world. It wasn’t even one of the good dishes. You’re just bent ‘cause things are still fuzzy. Instead of falling down depressed you should be happy that you can see shapes now instead of just light and dark. But noooooo, you gotta get your drama on.”
“You know if Aunt Dina were here …”
“Well she isn’t,” I snapped. “I gotta figure all this out on my own. No Mom. No Grammy. No nobody. Even Aunt Fran knows more than me and her idea of roughing it is staying at the Marriott instead of the Hilton. So don’t you give me a lot of guff Mitchell Quitman Decker. I … am … full … up on my quota of drama for the day. Dale would knock you flat if he was here.”
“He could try.”
“Yes he would … and he’d do it too ‘cause you ain’t been doing nothing to help yourself or me for the last whole week.”
“I’ve helped!”
“Grudgingly, expect with the dishes and then you act like it is all you can do.”
“I got the cultivator started!”
“Only after I pestered the pee out of you.”
“And carried those two bales of hay for you!”
“Yeah, after acting like I was asking you to get up off your flaming death bed. Now if you want to be the boss of me, you’re gonna earn it. And for another, I’m taking the clapper outta that bell. Grammy and Uncle Hy may have danced to it’s ringing tone but I ain’t nearly so nice as them. I … am … done!”
The wet rag hung up on his ear when I threw it at him before slamming out of the back door, off the porch, and over to the wood pile. That particular location was both my bane and my sanctuary. I hated having to chop wood every day for the wood stove but at the same time chopping helped me to work off my frustrations and get away from that ever-loving bell.
I chopped wood for a half hour when suddenly the ax was knocked from my hand.
“What the?! Mitch don’t you have more sense than to …” Only it wasn’t Mitch. I got one good scream out then all I could do was fight.
I am a healthy sized girl and in pretty good shape despite that. And Dale taught me to fight dirty ‘cause not all the guys in Venture Scouts are angels. The man also wasn’t in very good condition but even still, even me desperate and scared strong, he was winning and had my clothes all tore up and my lip busted and other things. I was losing. I knew it. And then he pulled the knife and I knew I wasn’t just gonna get raped, but was gonna get dead too.
Then suddenly the wind was knocked out of me as the man fell on me hard. I heard, “Move Nann!”
I moved as quick as I could, but I still got struck a glancing blow by the piece of wood that Mitch was using to bash the guy to smithereens.
I finally had to stop him when stuff started leaking out of the guy’s ears. It wasn’t easy as Mitch seemed as crazy as I felt.
Nann? Nann?! Are there any more of them?!!” he yelled swinging around and swinging the wood around as well.
“No, it was only this one,” I said.
“Are you sure?!”
“As sure as I can be. He … he …”
Mitch had finally found me, and I finally noticed he’d stripped the covers off his eyes again.
“Nann? Dump? Oh God. Your … clothes. You’re …” Then he roared, “Did that bastard …?!”
He looked ready to start pulverizing what was left of the guy and I knew my stomach couldn’t handle that. “No! He … he tried but you saved me. Sssssaved … me …”
Then the adrenaline dump died and I fell on Mitch and started balling my eyes out. I’ve spent my whole life around guys of all sorts but never had I ever come close to having to deal with anything like this. I may not have delicate sensibilities, but I was still in shock.
“Dammit to hell!”
In exasperation as he kicked another piece out of my reach I told Mitch, “Stop yelling. It was just a saucer. I shoulda made better care that you had ahold of it.”
“Yeah ‘cause I’m blind as a f@#$%&* bat.”
“No. ‘Cause your hands are wet and mine are soapy. You know, to be twenty-one you sure can throw a tantrum. And a stupid one at that.”
“Nann …” he growled in warning.
But I had had enough. “Oh kiss my left big toe and stop feeling story for yourself. You dropped a freaking saucer. It ain’t the end of the world. It wasn’t even one of the good dishes. You’re just bent ‘cause things are still fuzzy. Instead of falling down depressed you should be happy that you can see shapes now instead of just light and dark. But noooooo, you gotta get your drama on.”
“You know if Aunt Dina were here …”
“Well she isn’t,” I snapped. “I gotta figure all this out on my own. No Mom. No Grammy. No nobody. Even Aunt Fran knows more than me and her idea of roughing it is staying at the Marriott instead of the Hilton. So don’t you give me a lot of guff Mitchell Quitman Decker. I … am … full … up on my quota of drama for the day. Dale would knock you flat if he was here.”
“He could try.”
“Yes he would … and he’d do it too ‘cause you ain’t been doing nothing to help yourself or me for the last whole week.”
“I’ve helped!”
“Grudgingly, expect with the dishes and then you act like it is all you can do.”
“I got the cultivator started!”
“Only after I pestered the pee out of you.”
“And carried those two bales of hay for you!”
“Yeah, after acting like I was asking you to get up off your flaming death bed. Now if you want to be the boss of me, you’re gonna earn it. And for another, I’m taking the clapper outta that bell. Grammy and Uncle Hy may have danced to it’s ringing tone but I ain’t nearly so nice as them. I … am … done!”
The wet rag hung up on his ear when I threw it at him before slamming out of the back door, off the porch, and over to the wood pile. That particular location was both my bane and my sanctuary. I hated having to chop wood every day for the wood stove but at the same time chopping helped me to work off my frustrations and get away from that ever-loving bell.
I chopped wood for a half hour when suddenly the ax was knocked from my hand.
“What the?! Mitch don’t you have more sense than to …” Only it wasn’t Mitch. I got one good scream out then all I could do was fight.
I am a healthy sized girl and in pretty good shape despite that. And Dale taught me to fight dirty ‘cause not all the guys in Venture Scouts are angels. The man also wasn’t in very good condition but even still, even me desperate and scared strong, he was winning and had my clothes all tore up and my lip busted and other things. I was losing. I knew it. And then he pulled the knife and I knew I wasn’t just gonna get raped, but was gonna get dead too.
Then suddenly the wind was knocked out of me as the man fell on me hard. I heard, “Move Nann!”
I moved as quick as I could, but I still got struck a glancing blow by the piece of wood that Mitch was using to bash the guy to smithereens.
I finally had to stop him when stuff started leaking out of the guy’s ears. It wasn’t easy as Mitch seemed as crazy as I felt.
Nann? Nann?! Are there any more of them?!!” he yelled swinging around and swinging the wood around as well.
“No, it was only this one,” I said.
“Are you sure?!”
“As sure as I can be. He … he …”
Mitch had finally found me, and I finally noticed he’d stripped the covers off his eyes again.
“Nann? Dump? Oh God. Your … clothes. You’re …” Then he roared, “Did that bastard …?!”
He looked ready to start pulverizing what was left of the guy and I knew my stomach couldn’t handle that. “No! He … he tried but you saved me. Sssssaved … me …”
Then the adrenaline dump died and I fell on Mitch and started balling my eyes out. I’ve spent my whole life around guys of all sorts but never had I ever come close to having to deal with anything like this. I may not have delicate sensibilities, but I was still in shock.
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
So, here's how it goes: what you have and when you find time to post, is what we get. Because of your generous nature and willingness to share, we are enriched by what you give us.
You never need to apologise because RL raised its head; we all deal with that and completely understand.
BTW -- this is shaping up to be a great addition to your catalogue.
Thank you, ma'am ....
You never need to apologise because RL raised its head; we all deal with that and completely understand.
BTW -- this is shaping up to be a great addition to your catalogue.
Thank you, ma'am ....
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beaglemama
Contributing Member
Thank you! I hope you have a good weekend, Kathy.
steamroller
Contributing Member
Great chapters, thank you.
223shootersc
Veteran Member
Good stuff, as always, thanks.
Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
Happy Birthday Hickory 7! And now I have an ear worm of the childhood ditty that rhymes with clock. I just read an article on the vale of hickory lumber and I think your handle is cool beans. May your day day be awesome and full of joy.
Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
Thank you Kathy! May your weekend be awesome.