Story Nann
- Thread starter Kathy in FL
- Start date
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Big thanks, have a good work weekend and Sunday.
Sammy55
Veteran Member
Oh, wow, Kathy!! Your writing has me on the edge of my seat!! Thanks much for all you bring to us in the midst of your crazy busy busy life!! It's always a wonderful blessing to find a chapter from you, and today we found two!!
Your writing is a blessing, dear lady! Whenever and however you have the time the time to share with us.
Your writing is a blessing, dear lady! Whenever and however you have the time the time to share with us.
Yep. Not so much the generations that came after mine but have lots of unusual.
Hy = Hysaw
Dee = DeWitt
Malissa instead of Melissa
GW = George Washington
PeeDee = Paul David Jr.
Dump = short for Dumpling which is just a name some little girls got they never grew out of
Sister = a name given to girls in in the family. Frankly I think my grandfather called all females that so he wouldn't have to remember so many names. ROFL!
Sissy = a version of Sister and something I've been called for as long as I can remember by certain members of my family
Carnell = modernized to Connie
Lester = actually the name of a female family member three generations back. Her proper name was Lester Bell but most people knew her as Maw, whether they were related to her or not.
I grew up calling one of my great grandmothers "Mammy" and her husband "Pappy" and had absolutely no idea there was any kind of racial context to it. It used to be a very common name for grandmothers in that neck of the woods back then.
There are a ton of them in the family. ROFL. Half the time someone is called something, it may give you no clue what their legal/proper name is.
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Clarification is often required and is usually historical, I think.
All of those nicknames, abbreviations, initials, hair colours, etc., make sense to me except 'Dump'
Anybody ever called our sister that, my brother & I would have delivered a fairly abrupt response, if she didn't beat us to it!
We had a 'Hi' too .... a maternal uncle, Hiram Butler.
Thank you, Ma'am & I hope you managed some rest between your labours ... take care
G.
All of those nicknames, abbreviations, initials, hair colours, etc., make sense to me except 'Dump'
Anybody ever called our sister that, my brother & I would have delivered a fairly abrupt response, if she didn't beat us to it!
We had a 'Hi' too .... a maternal uncle, Hiram Butler.
Thank you, Ma'am & I hope you managed some rest between your labours ... take care
G.
Our maternal grandmother was caller "Mammy", paternal grandmother was "Granny". Some of our uncles, on both sides were called by their initials. Our father was called "Dink". His older sister had trouble calling him a stinky, "dinky", baby. Maternal grandfather was called "Paw", didn't know paternal grandfather, may have to ask my remaining older brother.
Sportsman
Veteran Member
It makes sense. My grandmother was Minibell (given name), other one was Maw (given name was Iona Leona), we also had a Jewell, Win, Bo, and such. Some of it is a Southern thing, kinda like all the women (especially retail workers) calling most men "Darling", and now I'm old enough to call all unknown women "Darlin' " instead of "mam" if I don't know their names. Some were names made up by infants that couldn't pronounce the real name.
Lake Lili
Veteran Member
My grandmother was called Big Gaggy (1912-1972) and her mother-in-law was Wee Gaggy (1879-1976)... we have no idea where it came from, but intend to let it die out. Jenny was always short for Janet. Johns and Ians alternated generations... and if there were too many of them, they were referred to as Mark I, II or III. Thomas were always called Tom. Alexanders were always called that or Gander, but Alexandras were called Sandra. But in both cases it was usually the middle name [of the 22 cousins in my generation, 18 have Alexander/Alexandra as a middle name - I'm not one.] Wil is short for Wilbert and Bill for William. Annes were called Nancy.
Something I have never understood is how did the name Nancy come from Ann? Being a Nancy I'd like that explained to me. LOL LOL
Lake Lili
Veteran Member
Apparently, Nancy originated as a contraction of “mine Ancy.” Ancy was a nickname for Annis, a Medieval English variant of Agnes - the 3rd most popular name in Europe for about 400 years thank to St Agnes of Rome. In the 18th century it began being used in its own right, as well as a nickname for Ann. That being said Nanciaco, was also Gaulish personal name which under the Dukes of Lorraine was applied in the 1050s to a small fortified town as Nanciacum or Nancy, from which it passed into personal name territory again... so you can take your pick...
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
OK
Further to that, my old WIN7PRO desktop has been less than cooperative the last week or so, I picked up a new-to-me-refurb Compaq w/ a way better processor, a half ton of RAM & other good things.
Tonight I started moving my Apps & files & damn it, my old reliable VIZIO 4 will NOT load on a WIN10 Pro machine!!
I'm devastated! There goes my $25.00! Oh, well ... back to eBay for a more current version. Don't worry Kathy; I've got my notes & I will catch up!
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
So Ms Lili; you're a Medieval history Prof? A motivated genealogist? Someone I should never play trivia-based board games with? I knew about the St Agnes thing but the rest is all new ground.
G.
Lake Lili
Veteran Member
Lol... Thanks Griz... history degree... genealogist and used to run and teach at the local Family History Centre [have since left the church but am still on call because they do]... researcher specializing in the kinship ties of the Fur Trade (1760-1830) and anything else worth researching... currently researching property ownership/inheritance in France, Uk and Italy... and homeschooling my 15yo in Grade 12 [except for math - his grandfather handles quadratics... shudder]... and you are safe, I don't play trivia games... I have issues with the trained seal thing.
Chapter 10
It was a mess getting both of us back to the house. Calling the dogs off hadn’t been easy; they’d still been eager to savage the man’s body. Mitch had commanded them to stay to keep from injuring them, but it was only the fact that they were good hunting dogs that made it possible. I had to play seeing eye dog despite constantly tripping over my ruined clothes. Mitch point-blank refused to let me move two steps without him, not even to step away long enough to find me some dignity. He kept rubbing his eyes and even in my state I knew to tell him to stop doing that and just put the bandages back up. Butch and Pretty were up under both of us like they were herding sheep and wouldn’t stop until we were inside with the door closed.
I wasn’t thinking too clearly. It wasn’t until Mitch asked, “What are the dogs doing? I can hear their nails clacking.” I pulled my thoughts back together.
“Dump?” I felt bad he had to ask twice but it felt like I was moving through cold molasses.
“Going from window to window, looking out. But they’ve stopped growling.”
“Okay. Let’s go get you cleaned up.”
“Mitch?”
“C’mon Dump,” he said like he was dealing with a spooked calf.
“Mitch …”
Gently Mitch told me, “It’s okay Nann, the guy can’t hurt you anymore.”
I took a breath and said, “I know that; you saved me. But if you can see, even if it’s just general shapes, you are staying on the other side of the door. Got it?”
“Er … yeah. But … you’re not lying just to …?”
“The guy tried to …” I stopped talking and started shaking and that’s all I remember for a little while.
# # # # #
I heard, “Nann? Dump? C’mon Kid talk to me.”
Suddenly I was back with it and realized I was sorta dressed but only in one of Grammy’s flannel night gowns.
“Oh … my … gosh. Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!!”
“Whoa Dump,” Mitch said in a calming voice. “Take it easy.”
“It’s dark! Why is it dark?! And why am I dressed like Grammy?!!”
I must have sounded like a head case because in the gentlest voice I’d ever heard Mitch use he said, “Easy there. C’mon Dump, take it easy. It’s dark because I closed the shutters in here. You’re in Grammy’s … er ... look, I really can’t see much and with the shutters closed I couldn’t see anything. Which means now I need to open the shutters so that … er … I can see … some.”
“Mitch …” It came out too close to a whimper which is what finally helped me find some strength. “I … I’m fine,” I said aloud. “You saved me. The bad guy is toast and gone forever. That’s … that’s just … the way things are. And I’m … I’m fine.”
Only when Mitch stood up from the side of the bed I grabbed him surprising us both. I made myself let go and Mitch didn’t remark on it. “Mind if I open the shutters up?”
“No. Go ahead. I’m fine.”
I was cold which felt weird because I knew on some level I shouldn’t feel as cold as I did. Mitch must have sensed it or something because on his way back he brought a quilt that had been draped in Grammy’s rocker.
“Here, pull this around you. You’re still shaky and your hands are like ice.” While I did that he said, “You’re in Grammy’s room because I wasn’t going to risk either one of us on them stairs.”
“Okay.”
Carefully he asked, “You with it enough to tell me what happened?”
So I did then finished, “But you saved me.”
“The dogs and I did. I couldn’t … I got turned around when I rushed down off the porch. They knocked him off you and …” He stopped and cleared his throat. “From now on we both have to be more careful.” After a moment he asked, “Anyone you recognized?”
“No … and please don’t make me look at him … it … again. You hit him … a lot.”
“Good,” he said in a tone that was just this side of way too satisfied for good taste. “I couldn’t risk taking a shot … not even if I could see. I didn’t hit you did I?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Nann?” And I knew what he was asking without trying to ask all the way.
“He … he didn’t Mitch. He would have but he didn’t. You …” When I started to cry this time, it was in relief and not fear. “Thank you, Mitch.”
“Shhhh …” he said as he held me as I cried.
# # # # #
A while later I said, “I need to go put clothes on. My own clothes. Grammy’s stuff is … er …”
“Yeah. And … I wish I could do it without you Dump but …”
I knew he meant take care of the animals and shut things down for the night. “Just come with me?” I asked trying not to let it sound like begging.
“Sure thing Kid. Of course.”
“I’m not … a kid I mean. If I had any left this killed it.”
Concern coloring his voice he told me, “Don’t say that.”
“All right. Doesn’t change how I feel though. And maybe I need it to happen.”
“Uh uh, nothing too deep right now Dump. Trust me, right now you aren’t in the state of mind that you need to be for digging those kinds of holes.”
# # # # #
Everything was shut down for the night. Everything except my brain.
“You need to get some sleep Nann.”
“I know.” He opened his mouth to saying something else but I stopped him. “Don’t say things will be better in the morning ‘cause we both know that’s a lie. The only difference between now and in the morning is that the sun will be up and hopefully the buzzards down at the gully will be fewer in number.”
With real regret that I’d had to help he said, “There wasn’t any choice Nann. I wasn’t wasting time, energy, or fuel carting PeeDee Winters someplace to give him a decent burying. Bad enough you had to help get him as far as we did.”
“I didn’t recognize him. As bad a jerk as he was I still can’t believe he’d … he’d try and …”
In a strong and what he thought a comforting voice Mitch told me, “He was a bad seed. That whole family has been that way for as long as I can remember, and Dad would say the same thing. Don’t let who he was confuse the issue Nann. He acted evil and reaped an evil end. That’s how things are supposed to work in this life. Try and forget you knew him because you really didn’t; just of him.”
I wanted to say, might be the way things are supposed to work but it didn’t seem to happen that way often enough. Instead, feeling a little childish, I asked, “Mitch?”
“Yeah?”
“Are there a lot more out there like him?”
Reluctantly he admitted, “Yeah. Hopefully we’ve seen the last around here, but hope isn’t a plan. Tomorrow I need you to find Grammy’s pocketbook and see if her sunglasses are in there.”
“The dark ones she started wearing after her cataract surgery?”
“Yeah. How did you …?”
“I’m not as dumb as I’ve been acting.”
“Hey now.” I heard the concern in his voice and tried to explain.
“Seriously Mitch, time for me to get my head out of La-La Land. You may be the boss dog around here, but I can’t live on autopilot and leave you all the heavy thinking. That’s coming too close to being like Aunt Fran and … Lisa. I don’t wanna be like that. We can’t risk me being like that. Mom and Daddy would have a cow if I went that direction and Dale flat out promised to throw me off Look Out Mountain if I tried that crap. Being a girl doesn’t mean I get to be a dippity doo da kind of person.”
“Okay, okay Dump. Take it easy.”
Trying not to show how anxious I was I said, “We need a plan.”
“More than what we’ve had to this point,” he agreed. “I can see.” At obvious my alarm he said, “Relax. Not fine details. And my head feels like the bull has been tap dancing on it which is why I put the bandage back on my eyes.”
“But you can see?”
“Just enough to let me know what I’m looking at. And you can get that look off your face that I know has to be there. It was a medical emergency and that’s all either of us needs to say about it. Okay?”
I sighed. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Dump …”
“I don’t need people feeling sorry for me or worse, feeling sorry for you for getting stuck with the job.”
“Er …”
“And forget it, no guy-trap or whatever you’re worried about. I’m … I’m realistic. That … that doesn’t mean …”
He cleared his throat and I knew I was in for a lecture. He still managed to surprise me. “Nann, I’m gonna say this once and then I want to drop the subject. I’m not the one you should be hearing this from. Not to mention Uncle John would probably have my head. But here it is, stop whatever it is you are thinking. Just ‘cause you aren’t built like a stick with artificial parts stuck on in the obvious places doesn’t mean you aren’t turning into a beauty. Those fake Barbies might have their charms, but it’s all just plastic, bondo, and high gloss polish. When a guy lifts the hood, he want an 8-cylinder with lots of horsepower; not some dinky 4-cylinder hybrid he can’t even risk taking on the Interstate. I’m not saying looks aren’t important – it doesn’t hurt to put some paint on the barn – but looks ain’t everything. It’s more about performance than about being a calendar model. A guy doesn’t like to wonder how many others are driving … er … handling … uh … aw hell. Dump, you know what I’m trying to say.”
And I did. I bumped his shoulder as I walked to the stairs. “Yeah. Dale kinda tried to tell me the same thing once using sumo wrestlers. I think I like the car analogy better.”
Mitch snorted in disbelief and said, “Sumo wrestlers?!”
“Trust me, you don’t what to know. Not to mention you used a lot fewer words and didn’t turn inside out and pea green while you did it,” I said, stuck between a grin and a grimace as I recalled that particular conversation with my brother.
“Boy has rocks in his head.”
“Sometimes,” I agreed. I stopped at the first landing and turned back. “Mitch?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For everything.”
“Go to bed Dump.”
It was a mess getting both of us back to the house. Calling the dogs off hadn’t been easy; they’d still been eager to savage the man’s body. Mitch had commanded them to stay to keep from injuring them, but it was only the fact that they were good hunting dogs that made it possible. I had to play seeing eye dog despite constantly tripping over my ruined clothes. Mitch point-blank refused to let me move two steps without him, not even to step away long enough to find me some dignity. He kept rubbing his eyes and even in my state I knew to tell him to stop doing that and just put the bandages back up. Butch and Pretty were up under both of us like they were herding sheep and wouldn’t stop until we were inside with the door closed.
I wasn’t thinking too clearly. It wasn’t until Mitch asked, “What are the dogs doing? I can hear their nails clacking.” I pulled my thoughts back together.
“Dump?” I felt bad he had to ask twice but it felt like I was moving through cold molasses.
“Going from window to window, looking out. But they’ve stopped growling.”
“Okay. Let’s go get you cleaned up.”
“Mitch?”
“C’mon Dump,” he said like he was dealing with a spooked calf.
“Mitch …”
Gently Mitch told me, “It’s okay Nann, the guy can’t hurt you anymore.”
I took a breath and said, “I know that; you saved me. But if you can see, even if it’s just general shapes, you are staying on the other side of the door. Got it?”
“Er … yeah. But … you’re not lying just to …?”
“The guy tried to …” I stopped talking and started shaking and that’s all I remember for a little while.
# # # # #
I heard, “Nann? Dump? C’mon Kid talk to me.”
Suddenly I was back with it and realized I was sorta dressed but only in one of Grammy’s flannel night gowns.
“Oh … my … gosh. Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!!”
“Whoa Dump,” Mitch said in a calming voice. “Take it easy.”
“It’s dark! Why is it dark?! And why am I dressed like Grammy?!!”
I must have sounded like a head case because in the gentlest voice I’d ever heard Mitch use he said, “Easy there. C’mon Dump, take it easy. It’s dark because I closed the shutters in here. You’re in Grammy’s … er ... look, I really can’t see much and with the shutters closed I couldn’t see anything. Which means now I need to open the shutters so that … er … I can see … some.”
“Mitch …” It came out too close to a whimper which is what finally helped me find some strength. “I … I’m fine,” I said aloud. “You saved me. The bad guy is toast and gone forever. That’s … that’s just … the way things are. And I’m … I’m fine.”
Only when Mitch stood up from the side of the bed I grabbed him surprising us both. I made myself let go and Mitch didn’t remark on it. “Mind if I open the shutters up?”
“No. Go ahead. I’m fine.”
I was cold which felt weird because I knew on some level I shouldn’t feel as cold as I did. Mitch must have sensed it or something because on his way back he brought a quilt that had been draped in Grammy’s rocker.
“Here, pull this around you. You’re still shaky and your hands are like ice.” While I did that he said, “You’re in Grammy’s room because I wasn’t going to risk either one of us on them stairs.”
“Okay.”
Carefully he asked, “You with it enough to tell me what happened?”
So I did then finished, “But you saved me.”
“The dogs and I did. I couldn’t … I got turned around when I rushed down off the porch. They knocked him off you and …” He stopped and cleared his throat. “From now on we both have to be more careful.” After a moment he asked, “Anyone you recognized?”
“No … and please don’t make me look at him … it … again. You hit him … a lot.”
“Good,” he said in a tone that was just this side of way too satisfied for good taste. “I couldn’t risk taking a shot … not even if I could see. I didn’t hit you did I?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Nann?” And I knew what he was asking without trying to ask all the way.
“He … he didn’t Mitch. He would have but he didn’t. You …” When I started to cry this time, it was in relief and not fear. “Thank you, Mitch.”
“Shhhh …” he said as he held me as I cried.
# # # # #
A while later I said, “I need to go put clothes on. My own clothes. Grammy’s stuff is … er …”
“Yeah. And … I wish I could do it without you Dump but …”
I knew he meant take care of the animals and shut things down for the night. “Just come with me?” I asked trying not to let it sound like begging.
“Sure thing Kid. Of course.”
“I’m not … a kid I mean. If I had any left this killed it.”
Concern coloring his voice he told me, “Don’t say that.”
“All right. Doesn’t change how I feel though. And maybe I need it to happen.”
“Uh uh, nothing too deep right now Dump. Trust me, right now you aren’t in the state of mind that you need to be for digging those kinds of holes.”
# # # # #
Everything was shut down for the night. Everything except my brain.
“You need to get some sleep Nann.”
“I know.” He opened his mouth to saying something else but I stopped him. “Don’t say things will be better in the morning ‘cause we both know that’s a lie. The only difference between now and in the morning is that the sun will be up and hopefully the buzzards down at the gully will be fewer in number.”
With real regret that I’d had to help he said, “There wasn’t any choice Nann. I wasn’t wasting time, energy, or fuel carting PeeDee Winters someplace to give him a decent burying. Bad enough you had to help get him as far as we did.”
“I didn’t recognize him. As bad a jerk as he was I still can’t believe he’d … he’d try and …”
In a strong and what he thought a comforting voice Mitch told me, “He was a bad seed. That whole family has been that way for as long as I can remember, and Dad would say the same thing. Don’t let who he was confuse the issue Nann. He acted evil and reaped an evil end. That’s how things are supposed to work in this life. Try and forget you knew him because you really didn’t; just of him.”
I wanted to say, might be the way things are supposed to work but it didn’t seem to happen that way often enough. Instead, feeling a little childish, I asked, “Mitch?”
“Yeah?”
“Are there a lot more out there like him?”
Reluctantly he admitted, “Yeah. Hopefully we’ve seen the last around here, but hope isn’t a plan. Tomorrow I need you to find Grammy’s pocketbook and see if her sunglasses are in there.”
“The dark ones she started wearing after her cataract surgery?”
“Yeah. How did you …?”
“I’m not as dumb as I’ve been acting.”
“Hey now.” I heard the concern in his voice and tried to explain.
“Seriously Mitch, time for me to get my head out of La-La Land. You may be the boss dog around here, but I can’t live on autopilot and leave you all the heavy thinking. That’s coming too close to being like Aunt Fran and … Lisa. I don’t wanna be like that. We can’t risk me being like that. Mom and Daddy would have a cow if I went that direction and Dale flat out promised to throw me off Look Out Mountain if I tried that crap. Being a girl doesn’t mean I get to be a dippity doo da kind of person.”
“Okay, okay Dump. Take it easy.”
Trying not to show how anxious I was I said, “We need a plan.”
“More than what we’ve had to this point,” he agreed. “I can see.” At obvious my alarm he said, “Relax. Not fine details. And my head feels like the bull has been tap dancing on it which is why I put the bandage back on my eyes.”
“But you can see?”
“Just enough to let me know what I’m looking at. And you can get that look off your face that I know has to be there. It was a medical emergency and that’s all either of us needs to say about it. Okay?”
I sighed. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Dump …”
“I don’t need people feeling sorry for me or worse, feeling sorry for you for getting stuck with the job.”
“Er …”
“And forget it, no guy-trap or whatever you’re worried about. I’m … I’m realistic. That … that doesn’t mean …”
He cleared his throat and I knew I was in for a lecture. He still managed to surprise me. “Nann, I’m gonna say this once and then I want to drop the subject. I’m not the one you should be hearing this from. Not to mention Uncle John would probably have my head. But here it is, stop whatever it is you are thinking. Just ‘cause you aren’t built like a stick with artificial parts stuck on in the obvious places doesn’t mean you aren’t turning into a beauty. Those fake Barbies might have their charms, but it’s all just plastic, bondo, and high gloss polish. When a guy lifts the hood, he want an 8-cylinder with lots of horsepower; not some dinky 4-cylinder hybrid he can’t even risk taking on the Interstate. I’m not saying looks aren’t important – it doesn’t hurt to put some paint on the barn – but looks ain’t everything. It’s more about performance than about being a calendar model. A guy doesn’t like to wonder how many others are driving … er … handling … uh … aw hell. Dump, you know what I’m trying to say.”
And I did. I bumped his shoulder as I walked to the stairs. “Yeah. Dale kinda tried to tell me the same thing once using sumo wrestlers. I think I like the car analogy better.”
Mitch snorted in disbelief and said, “Sumo wrestlers?!”
“Trust me, you don’t what to know. Not to mention you used a lot fewer words and didn’t turn inside out and pea green while you did it,” I said, stuck between a grin and a grimace as I recalled that particular conversation with my brother.
“Boy has rocks in his head.”
“Sometimes,” I agreed. I stopped at the first landing and turned back. “Mitch?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For everything.”
“Go to bed Dump.”
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Nice find this morning, thank you.
Renee! You're here! WOO! does this mean you'll write more? huh? huh? Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with sprinkles on top?
Chapter 11
The morning after wasn’t fun, but contrary to what I expected, it wasn’t horrible either. I sensed Mitch trying to “keep an eye” on me which was what, in part, made me determined to not fall apart. I could have used the girl card as an excuse, but I’ve always hated to see Lisa and Aunt Fran do that. Mom never did it, even when things would get real tough, so that’s the way I am deciding to be. Mom and I don’t always see eye-to-eye on things that fall under the category of “female” but on that we definitely agree. One of the highest compliments she ever paid me was one time when she was talking to one of her friends on the phone and said, “I am so blessed to have a daughter that isn’t a crybaby.”
Breakfast was a little challenging. I had bumps and bruises that I didn’t realize were going to show up. Moving around and talking to Mitch about a new plan helped, but I still popped a couple of Tylenol trying to keep the ouches from singing too loud. I’m pretty sure Mitch didn’t notice otherwise he probably would have tried to leave me behind and I wasn’t having that, even had I known what we’d find. But first came food.
“Were you here last March? I can’t remember if Dad mentioned it or not,” Mitch asked me as we ate eggs, sausage, and home fries for breakfast. We’d both agreed to back off the biscuits and muffins until we had a better handle on how long things would last.
Already having a suspicion of where the conversation was going I answered, “For almost two weeks. Mom and Dad got snowed in out in Denver during one of the last curriculum conventions before travel restrictions went into place. And then with all the craziness of the flights being booked up, it took them another week to drive back because they kept getting held up by more bad weather. They were in a lovely mood and Uncle Hy hadn’t been much better because when they came to pick me up, they brought the bad weather with them. Why? You thinking about tapping a tree? That’s why Uncle Hy was cranky; the weather changed his plans.”
Mitch nodded as he used a piece of sausage dobbed with strawberry freezer jam to push scrambled eggs onto his fork. “I’m thinking of finishing the job Dad had set to do. He was only waiting on the right weather and I think it’s here. Whatta ya think? You up for it?”
Thinking about the woodpile I sighed.
“What?”
“Don’t get mad but I’m gonna have a hard time keeping up.”
Finally cluing in Mitch said, “Don’t worry about the woodpile. Dad had already filled and set the propane cookers up. You were right.”
Never expecting to hear those words out of Mitch’s mouth I carefully asked, “Uh … about what?”
Proving he must have done a lot of thinking last night he said, “I’m Boss Dog … and that needs to be more than just a rank. I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. Dad tried to tell me there’d be problems if I didn’t. You … look, yesterday is over with but I don’t want a repeat. My eyesight might never be 20/20 again but it’s better than it was, and it is time I did my job around here. Dad … Dad isn’t around anymore so that means I … I gotta step up and figure a way around what is left to me. First, we’re gonna finishing eating, then we’re gonna go tap us some trees. If we’re gonna be in the woods we might as well see what else is out there … including checking out the Winters place. Donny & PeeDee might be outta the picture but that don’t mean they haven’t got some of their craphead friends holding up at their place. Or that Donny’s wife does. And if they do, we need to know.”
# # # # #
“Breathe Dump. C’mon Kid. It’s bad I grant you, but you’re just hurting yourself at this point. The one that did this is beyond being brought to justice.”
I felt a wet bandana being used to wipe my face and I tried to shove it away. I hate puking. I hate puking in front of people even more. Eventually I got control of myself and said between hiccups, “I gotta stop crying on you. You’re gonna get soggy.”
“I don’t mind,” he said patting my arm. “But I’d give a whole lot for there to be fewer reasons for you to cry.”
“Me too. I don’t know what is wrong with me. I don’t normally act like this, not even at things like funerals and stuff.”
Showing he had some insight I didn’t he said, “Too many shocks. This war makes even grown men cry; I’ve seen ‘em Dump. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Just try and hold off for a bit so I can check things out.”
“So we can check things out.”
It took a moment but Mitch finally gave a nod of agreement. I guess he’s learning what will make me fight and what is just a waste of time. He pushed Grammy’s dark sunglasses back up and then we both stood up.
“You ready for this?” he asked.
“Have to be,” I told him.
We walked back into the Winters house. The smell was worse than the first time we’d walked in, but no where near as bad as when we’d opened the door to the basement.
“You sure you can do this?” he asked me again, still concerned over me seeing what was down there.
“Yeah. Let’s just get it over with.”
Down the stairs and we took another quick look around to make sure we’d really seen what we’d seen, and that there was no livin’ person down there; then hustled back upstairs and onto the porch where we both were fighting not to gag. After we were able to breathe normal – or close to it, both of us spitting over the railing – Mitch said, “Looks like someone went on a bad trip.”
“Huh? Oh, you mean the drug stuff.”
“Yeah Dump, and I’ll ask later how you knew what that pile of crap was at your age.”
“Don’t act like I’m a toddler for cripe’s sake. I know I’ve been acting like my brain is made of Jell-o, but I ain’t weak. Besides, all anyone has to do is watch a cop show or public broadcasting … heck the regular evening news … and you eventually figure things out,” I explained, referring to all the drug cooking paraphernalia down there.
Mitch muttered something to the effect that my parents probably didn’t know what I was learning from television or they would have forbidden me watching it like when I was little. I told him that he was correct but not to sweat it, that I wasn’t irrevocably damaged or anything stupid like that.
“No you’re not, and I’m glad I don’t have to waste all day and forever explaining things, but if I were you, I’d leave your parents innocent as long as you can.”
“That’s the plan,” I told him. “So … a bad trip?”
“One or more of them sure freaked out down there because of something. PeeDee might have been one of ‘em or maybe his brain got turned during whatever happened as he escaped. Either, or, or neither. I ain’t gonna sit around all day worrying it do death. What’s done is done. And I sure ain’t cleaning it up. Getting rid of PeeDee’s body was bad enough. There’s another half dozen down there – a couple of ‘em in pieces – and they don’t give a rat’s a$$ what happens to their earthly remains at this point. We’ll tape the doors and windows shut and mark it a biohazard.”
Shuddering in disgust I said, “This place is a biohazard even without the bodies. Geez Louise. I didn’t think people really lived this nasty.”
Mitch said, “When you get hooked on something, hygiene is usually one of the first things to go. If I wasn’t worried about it getting out of control I’d burn the whole damn house down.” It was obvious he was trying to come up with a solution by the look on his face. “There’s duct take in Dad’s shop but I’d rather not use his. Let’s see if we can find something to use around here.”
Out in the shed we found a couple rolls of duct tape – the poor man’s fix-it-all. However, we also found something even better. There was a bag of rat poison, a few tubes of liquid nails, and some fluorescent-colored spray paint. The liquid nails we used on the basement door and the exterior entrances; open, throw in the rat poison pellets, squeeze the caulking gun, close, locked freaking forever though I gotta say I didn’t want to think on why we needed to throw all them rat poison pellets in like confetti. The spray paint we used to make skull-and-crossbones to mark the place as a danger for any fool that might happen by.
While Mitch looked around complaining about white trash idiots that had to go and murder each other thereby causing honest men unnecessary work, I looked around for a handy bush to take care of nature’s call. I told Mitch not to peek with him responding, “Yeah, yeah. I expect the same courtesy Brat.”
I didn’t take long because not all of the snow had melted from under the trees and a cold breeze was blowing.
“Dump?”
“I’m hurrying already,” I snapped as I tried to pull my coveralls back on.
“Take it easy. I just need you to confirm what my eyes is seeing.”
I came out of the bushes and looked off where he was pointing. I didn’t see anything at first and then it clicked. “Is that some kind of camouflage netting under those trees?”
The morning after wasn’t fun, but contrary to what I expected, it wasn’t horrible either. I sensed Mitch trying to “keep an eye” on me which was what, in part, made me determined to not fall apart. I could have used the girl card as an excuse, but I’ve always hated to see Lisa and Aunt Fran do that. Mom never did it, even when things would get real tough, so that’s the way I am deciding to be. Mom and I don’t always see eye-to-eye on things that fall under the category of “female” but on that we definitely agree. One of the highest compliments she ever paid me was one time when she was talking to one of her friends on the phone and said, “I am so blessed to have a daughter that isn’t a crybaby.”
Breakfast was a little challenging. I had bumps and bruises that I didn’t realize were going to show up. Moving around and talking to Mitch about a new plan helped, but I still popped a couple of Tylenol trying to keep the ouches from singing too loud. I’m pretty sure Mitch didn’t notice otherwise he probably would have tried to leave me behind and I wasn’t having that, even had I known what we’d find. But first came food.
“Were you here last March? I can’t remember if Dad mentioned it or not,” Mitch asked me as we ate eggs, sausage, and home fries for breakfast. We’d both agreed to back off the biscuits and muffins until we had a better handle on how long things would last.
Already having a suspicion of where the conversation was going I answered, “For almost two weeks. Mom and Dad got snowed in out in Denver during one of the last curriculum conventions before travel restrictions went into place. And then with all the craziness of the flights being booked up, it took them another week to drive back because they kept getting held up by more bad weather. They were in a lovely mood and Uncle Hy hadn’t been much better because when they came to pick me up, they brought the bad weather with them. Why? You thinking about tapping a tree? That’s why Uncle Hy was cranky; the weather changed his plans.”
Mitch nodded as he used a piece of sausage dobbed with strawberry freezer jam to push scrambled eggs onto his fork. “I’m thinking of finishing the job Dad had set to do. He was only waiting on the right weather and I think it’s here. Whatta ya think? You up for it?”
Thinking about the woodpile I sighed.
“What?”
“Don’t get mad but I’m gonna have a hard time keeping up.”
Finally cluing in Mitch said, “Don’t worry about the woodpile. Dad had already filled and set the propane cookers up. You were right.”
Never expecting to hear those words out of Mitch’s mouth I carefully asked, “Uh … about what?”
Proving he must have done a lot of thinking last night he said, “I’m Boss Dog … and that needs to be more than just a rank. I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. Dad tried to tell me there’d be problems if I didn’t. You … look, yesterday is over with but I don’t want a repeat. My eyesight might never be 20/20 again but it’s better than it was, and it is time I did my job around here. Dad … Dad isn’t around anymore so that means I … I gotta step up and figure a way around what is left to me. First, we’re gonna finishing eating, then we’re gonna go tap us some trees. If we’re gonna be in the woods we might as well see what else is out there … including checking out the Winters place. Donny & PeeDee might be outta the picture but that don’t mean they haven’t got some of their craphead friends holding up at their place. Or that Donny’s wife does. And if they do, we need to know.”
# # # # #
“Breathe Dump. C’mon Kid. It’s bad I grant you, but you’re just hurting yourself at this point. The one that did this is beyond being brought to justice.”
I felt a wet bandana being used to wipe my face and I tried to shove it away. I hate puking. I hate puking in front of people even more. Eventually I got control of myself and said between hiccups, “I gotta stop crying on you. You’re gonna get soggy.”
“I don’t mind,” he said patting my arm. “But I’d give a whole lot for there to be fewer reasons for you to cry.”
“Me too. I don’t know what is wrong with me. I don’t normally act like this, not even at things like funerals and stuff.”
Showing he had some insight I didn’t he said, “Too many shocks. This war makes even grown men cry; I’ve seen ‘em Dump. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Just try and hold off for a bit so I can check things out.”
“So we can check things out.”
It took a moment but Mitch finally gave a nod of agreement. I guess he’s learning what will make me fight and what is just a waste of time. He pushed Grammy’s dark sunglasses back up and then we both stood up.
“You ready for this?” he asked.
“Have to be,” I told him.
We walked back into the Winters house. The smell was worse than the first time we’d walked in, but no where near as bad as when we’d opened the door to the basement.
“You sure you can do this?” he asked me again, still concerned over me seeing what was down there.
“Yeah. Let’s just get it over with.”
Down the stairs and we took another quick look around to make sure we’d really seen what we’d seen, and that there was no livin’ person down there; then hustled back upstairs and onto the porch where we both were fighting not to gag. After we were able to breathe normal – or close to it, both of us spitting over the railing – Mitch said, “Looks like someone went on a bad trip.”
“Huh? Oh, you mean the drug stuff.”
“Yeah Dump, and I’ll ask later how you knew what that pile of crap was at your age.”
“Don’t act like I’m a toddler for cripe’s sake. I know I’ve been acting like my brain is made of Jell-o, but I ain’t weak. Besides, all anyone has to do is watch a cop show or public broadcasting … heck the regular evening news … and you eventually figure things out,” I explained, referring to all the drug cooking paraphernalia down there.
Mitch muttered something to the effect that my parents probably didn’t know what I was learning from television or they would have forbidden me watching it like when I was little. I told him that he was correct but not to sweat it, that I wasn’t irrevocably damaged or anything stupid like that.
“No you’re not, and I’m glad I don’t have to waste all day and forever explaining things, but if I were you, I’d leave your parents innocent as long as you can.”
“That’s the plan,” I told him. “So … a bad trip?”
“One or more of them sure freaked out down there because of something. PeeDee might have been one of ‘em or maybe his brain got turned during whatever happened as he escaped. Either, or, or neither. I ain’t gonna sit around all day worrying it do death. What’s done is done. And I sure ain’t cleaning it up. Getting rid of PeeDee’s body was bad enough. There’s another half dozen down there – a couple of ‘em in pieces – and they don’t give a rat’s a$$ what happens to their earthly remains at this point. We’ll tape the doors and windows shut and mark it a biohazard.”
Shuddering in disgust I said, “This place is a biohazard even without the bodies. Geez Louise. I didn’t think people really lived this nasty.”
Mitch said, “When you get hooked on something, hygiene is usually one of the first things to go. If I wasn’t worried about it getting out of control I’d burn the whole damn house down.” It was obvious he was trying to come up with a solution by the look on his face. “There’s duct take in Dad’s shop but I’d rather not use his. Let’s see if we can find something to use around here.”
Out in the shed we found a couple rolls of duct tape – the poor man’s fix-it-all. However, we also found something even better. There was a bag of rat poison, a few tubes of liquid nails, and some fluorescent-colored spray paint. The liquid nails we used on the basement door and the exterior entrances; open, throw in the rat poison pellets, squeeze the caulking gun, close, locked freaking forever though I gotta say I didn’t want to think on why we needed to throw all them rat poison pellets in like confetti. The spray paint we used to make skull-and-crossbones to mark the place as a danger for any fool that might happen by.
While Mitch looked around complaining about white trash idiots that had to go and murder each other thereby causing honest men unnecessary work, I looked around for a handy bush to take care of nature’s call. I told Mitch not to peek with him responding, “Yeah, yeah. I expect the same courtesy Brat.”
I didn’t take long because not all of the snow had melted from under the trees and a cold breeze was blowing.
“Dump?”
“I’m hurrying already,” I snapped as I tried to pull my coveralls back on.
“Take it easy. I just need you to confirm what my eyes is seeing.”
I came out of the bushes and looked off where he was pointing. I didn’t see anything at first and then it clicked. “Is that some kind of camouflage netting under those trees?”
Old Gray Mare
TB Fanatic
With Mother Hen's stories you never know!
Catshooter
Contributing Member
It's stripper poles for sure and we need pics!!!
Oh wait. Did I say that out loud? Opps.
Cat
Oh wait. Did I say that out loud? Opps.
Cat
Catshooter
Contributing Member
Who knows what her wild side looks like?
Cat
Cat
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Out loud and on the web!!
Shocked and appalled, I am!
Please make sure any images are clear and focused; colour preferred of course .....
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you.
AlaskaSue
North to the Future
Fantastic Kathy! Just got home from several days in North Pole helping my sister - landing in a howling gale (okay, a freaking hurricane), drove home 60 miles while trying to stay ON the road....and opened the door to frozen water pipes! Sigh.
...But...
I got to read some great new story!! Thanks very much <3
---NOTE: I've lived in Alaska almost my entire life but always always drive north. This time my sister got me a plane ticket and wonder of wonders, I finally saw Mt. McKinley from the air! WOW!!! Breathtaking
...But...
I got to read some great new story!! Thanks very much <3
---NOTE: I've lived in Alaska almost my entire life but always always drive north. This time my sister got me a plane ticket and wonder of wonders, I finally saw Mt. McKinley from the air! WOW!!! Breathtaking
Catshooter
Contributing Member
Pretty sure there's a law in Florida that says that any author named Kathy can only stop a chapter on a cliff.
*sigh*
Cat
*sigh*
Cat
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
She pumps those brake sooo gently, we never feel the slide to the edge until there we are ....enjoying the vista, again ...and again
Gotta award points for catching us like that