When I was checking on the status of the basement yesterday afternoon, I noticed something in one of the few remaining pools of water on the floor down there. It was a fish! He was flopping around helplessly, so I gathered him up and put him in the bucket with Fred and Ethel. His name is Little Ricky.
It turns out that he’s a real funny guy, which is nice. Humor is something that has been sorely lacking around here. I love Fred and Ethel, but they’re more straight-laced.
Little Ricky has great one-liners. He opened when I found him by asking me, “Don’t you hate it when someone answers their own questions? I do.”
HA! What a guy. I liked him immediately.
He’s witty too. He asked me, “What’s the difference between ignorance and apathy?” and then answered, “I don’t know, and I don’t care.”
He’s definitely livening up the place, that’s for sure.
This morning, as I was feeding them, he said, “I hate Russian dolls…they’re so full of themselves.”
Hee-hee-hee! I love having this guy around!
12:33 p.m.
I’m sitting here, eating my lunch of a sort of chili I’ve concocted from beans, rice, pasta, red sauce, and tiny bits of jerky I’ve thrown in.
It’s not the best, but hey, under the circumstances, it’s palatable. And the fish seem to enjoy it, especially Fred. That guy can really eat. He seems to like the bits of rice and tiny pieces of pasta I toss into the bucket.
Meanwhile, Little Ricky is keeping us all entertained. While we eat, he hits us with little quips like, “Did you hear the one about the semi-colon that broke the law? He was given two consecutive sentences.” Or, “I’d like to die peacefully in my sleep, just like my grandfather. Not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car.”
I’ll tell you what; that Little Ricky certainly has a sharp mind and a quick wit, that’s for sure. And his humor definitely helps make the day just a little more tolerable.
October 6th
10:07 a.m.
Oh my god, I can’t stop laughing. Little Ricky has us all rolling. After breakfast, he told us he was going to give us some good advice. At first, I thought he was serious, but I should have known better. With a dead-pan face he said, “Never, under any circumstances, take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night.”
That guy is a laugh riot, I’ll tell ya! Sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night! HA!!! It still has me going!
11:49 a.m.
Something is going on out on the lake. Two new boats have pulled up alongside the boat that’s been sitting out there for days now. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I don’t like it. Are they colluding? Are they plotting a raid against the lighthouse? What’s going on?! This could be big trouble!
12:12 p.m.
It looks like the boat that has been sitting outside the lighthouse is trying to make a break for it. I heard the sound of distant gunfire right before it started to move. Now, it’s headed straight for the lighthouse. The other two boats are following it. Great…just great.
12:24 p.m.
It appears that the two new boats are trying to raid the one that has been sitting outside the lighthouse. They managed to cut it off as it was headed toward the lighthouse. Since the boats were all closer to me at that point, I could see people leaping from the two new boats onto the old one. I couldn’t tell for sure what was going on, but it didn’t seem good. Then I could hear more gunfire.
I’d say that the three boats are maybe a hundred yards from the lighthouse. Hopefully they stay that way.
12:41 p.m.
The boat, the one that was here first, well, it’s sinking now. I can see people in the water. The other two boats are leaving. I’m not sure what to do. It looks like the people in the water (I think there are two of them) are swimming toward the lighthouse. I don’t know if they’ll make it here. The water’s so cold. I can’t imagine how terrible it must be for them.
My major problem now becomes, if those people make it here, I’m not sure what I’ll do. I feel for them, but I also fear them. If I help them, will they turn on me? A part of me doesn’t want them to make it here. Is that sick? Does that make me a terrible person? If they do, I’ll have to make a decision that one way or another could affect me forever after.
Little Ricky provided some of his typical perspective on the subject. Seeing the dilemma I’m faced with, he offered up this bit of advice, “Well, you know, crowded elevators smell different to midgets.”
I don’t know if his observation particularly helped me with my decision, but it certainly brought some much needed levity to the situation.
12:48 p.m.
The two people in the water have almost reached the lighthouse. Frankly, I’m surprised they made it this far.
I asked Fred, Ethel, and Little Ricky for some last minute advice, voicing my concern that this might be a trick, or if not, that if I try to help these people, they might turn on me after the fact.
Fred and Ethel were of no help on the matter. Little Ricky only offered up this tidbit, “The problem with kleptomaniacs is that they always take things literally.”
Great. Thanks a lot Little Ricky. How have I gone from philosophical Thoreau to this character?
Okay, it’s decision time.
1:47 p.m.
Well, I’ve spent the last hour fishing the two swimmers (Kevin and Sally, who I had met before) out of the lake, getting them dry, finding them warm clothes, finding them blankets, and cranking up my little cook stove to try to warm them. It makes me mad. I’m wasting a lot of valuable propane on trying to get these people warm, but they would die otherwise. They were near death when I hauled them up to the lighthouse. I could barely manage on my own. They were so cold they were of little use in helping to pull themselves up. Heck, they could barely get the ropes I lowered down to them tied around their waists. I have a feeling I’m going to be awfully sore tomorrow. Thankfully, these two are fairly small people, and I guess they haven’t been eating much lately. And with all the wood chopping I’d been doing before I left my cabin, I am still in pretty good shape.
Anyway, they’re here warming themselves as I write. I’m armed with my .44, which is out and visible just in case they try something. I told the fish to yell if they see any shady business going on with the two new arrivals.
These newcomers probably think I’m crazy. I spent the first five minutes after they were dry, screaming at them about their having parked their boat in front of the lighthouse all week.
The woman, Sally, was crying the whole time, going on and on about how the people in the other two boats had killed her brother Jonathon. I told her to shut up. I don’t want to hear it after what they’ve been pulling all week sitting out there.
The husband, Kevin, said they were just using the lighthouse as a point of reference. They were fishing and watching for me, hoping I might still be alive in here and that maybe I could help them like I did last time.
HA! I knew it! They wanted my help. Sure they did. They’re out there murdering fish! They were probably just waiting for me to come out so they could murder me too!
No way, brother! Not me. I’m no dummy! They’re not going to pull a fast one on me.
Okay, time to take care of business with these two. I can’t leave them to endanger me and my family. It’d be bad enough for them to try something with me, but I can’t bring myself to think about what would happen if they hurt Fred, Ethel, or Little Ricky.
“Yeah, yeah.” That’s what I just told them as I waved them away. They keep thanking me over and over again for my help. Well, don’t get used to it. You’ve gotten just about all the help you’re going to get out of me!
3:42 p.m.
That’s better – peace and quiet. You wouldn’t think that I’d want it quiet with the way things have been around here, but Fred, Ethel, and Little Ricky provide me with all the company I need these days.
When I was complaining to them about how much Kevin and Sally talk, Little Ricky told me that th
ey were just like children. He said, “Kids, you spend the first 2 years of their life teaching them to walk and talk. You spend the next 16 telling them to sit down and shut-up.”
That Little Ricky; he’s a quick one. Makes me marvel at the fact that I ever thought fish were stupid lifeless beings. Guess it just goes to show that you can’t judge a book by its cover.
So where are the two intruders I fished from the lake? They’re down in the basement. I marched them down there at gunpoint once I felt they were warm enough. They begged and pleaded not to be put there, but I didn’t fall for their whining. I know better.
Before I left them in the basement, I asked them why their boat was attacked. I’m not sure that I believe their explanation. Like they told me earlier, they said that they were simply holding out in their boat, fishing and trying to stay away from the mainland long enough to let things cool down. They said that they felt much safer on the water than on land. In that regard, I can’t say I blame them. They were resting below deck this morning, so when the two boats approached, they didn’t realize it until it was too late. Armed men aboard the vessels told them that they were taking the boat and everything aboard it, which Kevin and Sally tell me now was hardly anything. They were barely eating one full meal per day, two if they were lucky and caught fish, which only made me angry.
The armed men told Kevin, Sally, and Jonathon that they had a choice, they could either stay aboard their boat, in which instance they would be executed, or they could jump overboard and take their chances swimming for land.
Obviously, they chose the latter, but right before they were ready to jump, Jonathon (Sally’s brother) did something stupid and tried to disarm one of the men. In the process, he was shot several times. Kevin said he grabbed Sally as the other men turned their attention to Jonathon, and escaped in a hail of gunfire which apparently resulted in enough holes being shot in the boat to sink it. They jumped overboard and swam for their lives toward the closest thing they could see – the lighthouse.
They said that they would have died for sure if it wasn’t for me, which makes me feel good but at the same time, somewhat regretful. I really don’t want them here. If the canoe was seaworthy, I’d put them in it and send them to shore. Maybe I should anyway, but there’s no way they’d make it before sinking.
For now, I’ll have to consider the situation. I’m going to ask Fred and Ethel what they think. Little Ricky won’t be of any help resolving the issue. He’s so full of it. But that’s why I love him.
For now, Kevin and Sally are secured in the basement. They put up a real fuss about it, but I don’t care. It’s better than freezing in the lake – not much, but at least it’s dry…for the moment. With that hole in the wall however, it’s cold as crap down there. I gave them a couple extra blankets to help them stay warm. They’re lucky I gave them those. But I can’t have them wandering around the lighthouse. I don’t know these people, and I don’t know what they’re capable of. They seem like decent individuals, but in our current world, it seems that even good people are capable of bad things.
To ensure that they stay put, I placed several fully-loaded buckets of my supplies on top of the basement hatch. I figure that this will keep them put until I can figure out what to do with them.
And now I’m tired. It’s been a long day, and I want to sit down to dinner with Fred, Ethel, and Little Ricky, and relax a little bit. And yes, I’ll feed Kevin and Sally too – not too much, but I’ll feed them.
October 7th
9:22 a.m.
It’s a somber morning. I’m not embarrassed to say that I just got done with a good cry. Why? Because Fred committed suicide last night. I found him cold and stiff on the floor beside the bucket this morning. I can’t believe it…I just can’t believe it.
I blame those people! I think their arrival had him so worked up and worried that he didn’t know what he was doing. I’m not sure he even meant to jump out of the bucket. Yesterday afternoon, he seemed very agitated and kept swimming in circles. I wonder if he wasn’t trying to keep watch last night to keep us all safe. I can see him doing something like that. He was such a kind, caring soul. He may have heard something during the night, and I’ll bet he jumped up to have a better look and got a little overly ambitious with his leap.
Poor guy. What a terrible death, laying there alone, in the darkness, on the cold concrete, slowly suffocating. It’s making me start to cry again just writing about it. He certainly deserved better. And those assholes downstairs are the cause! Things were fine until they got here. They weren’t even here a day before something went wrong. I knew I shouldn’t have helped them.
I’m going to have a talk with Ethel and Little Ricky just to make sure they’re okay and don’t try any silliness like Fred did. I’m not sure I could handle it if something were to happen to them.
11:08 a.m.
So I discussed the situation with Ethel and Little Ricky. Even Little Ricky was somewhat subdued. We expressed how sad we all were regarding Fred. They both said that they were asleep when it happened, otherwise they would have let me know. I told them that I understood and that it wasn’t their fault, that I blamed the newcomers. They agreed and told me that they were as distrustful of Kevin and Sally as I was. Ethel is of the mindset that I should just get rid of them. She said that they are fish murderers and have no place here at the lighthouse.
I agreed with her, but I explained that they weren’t here by choice, and that it wasn’t my right to kill them. She responded that it wasn’t their right to be killing their kind either. I felt embarrassed regarding my own path in this regard and refrained from explaining that I was much like Kevin and Sally at one point in my life. I don’t want Ethel and Little Ricky to fear me as they do those two.
I did my best to placate their concerns, explaining to them that Kevin and Sally were secured in the basement and were not a threat. I told them that I had weapons to defend us with if necessary, but I also told them to remain vigilant…not as vigilant as Fred, but vigilant nonetheless.
Speaking of Kevin and Sally, they whined profusely about their situation when I went to check on them after talking with Ethel and Little Ricky. When I sent the bucket down containing their breakfast (yes, I’m still feeding them, even after this morning), they told me that they were still hungry, that they were starving in fact. They also complained of the freezing cold and the lack of warm places to sleep in the basement.
I wordlessly ignored their pleadings, but I can’t say that they didn’t strike home. I’m not a heartless person. And I’m constantly cold even up in my bed at night, so I can only imagine how it is down in that dungeon-like basement. But I didn’t choose this for them. I’m doing my best to help them. It’s not my fault they’re in this predicament, and I’m not going to have them endangering us by giving them more than they deserve. The more I feed them, and the warmer I make them, the more energy they’ll have to try to escape. And who knows what these people are capable of.
Still, I find myself feeling somewhat guilty. Thank god I have the fish to keep me sensible. They are a real grounding force. They help talk me through these issues, and they bring me back to reality when I start thinking that maybe I should let these people go, that maybe they could help me in some way. Whenever I start talking like that, the fish bring me back down, reminding me that if I free Kevin and Sally, they’re likely to go right back to their murderous ways.
Ethel asked me if that was what I wanted, if I sought to free people who had admittedly been hunting and killing fish. I fervently denied that this was the case. And it’s true. Still, the thought of having to spend more than a few minutes in the basement churns my stomach something terrible. It must be so terrible for them down there, waiting, wondering what’s going to happen to them.
I really can’t imagine it, and frankly, I don’t want to.
October 8th
6:12 a.m.
I can’t sleep. The fish are up too. Our prisoners keep yelling from the basement. I guess I s
houldn’t call them prisoners. Guests maybe? Captive guests? Whatever we call them, they’re raising a real racket down there, and neither the fish nor I can sleep with it going on.
I lowered them another blanket in the rope-held bucket that I send their meals down in. Still, I refuse to feed them more than two small meals twice a day. I want to keep their strength down so they don’t create further problems for me.
I suppose I should get up and start working on breakfast. It will be oatmeal…again. I’m getting sick of oatmeal, but it’s quick, easy, and filling. The only problem (besides my being completely sick of eating it) is that I’m hungry again about an hour or so after eating it. I’d estimate that I’ve probably lost five to ten pounds since arriving to the lighthouse. I had the excess weight to lose, but if things keep going this way, I will be skin in bones in a couple more months.
I can’t imagine how hungry they are downstairs. I think that my stomach is finally starting to get used to the reduced portion sizes, but it still growls vociferously throughout the day. I think the only ones who are happy with their meals are Ethel and Little Ricky. Little Ricky seems to be getting bigger by the day, and while I won’t say it to her face, I think Ethel has gained a little weight too.
11:33 a.m.
It has finally quieted downstairs. Either they’ve yelled themselves hoarse, just given up, or finally succumbed to the cold. I feel like a real piece of crap ignoring them like this, but I don’t think I have much choice. And Ethel and Little Ricky have been adamant regarding their feelings toward these people. They stand steadfast in their belief that they pose a threat to us. I’m not quite as confident as they are regarding the danger Kevin and Sally pose. But dare I risk misjudging them? Doing so could cost us all our lives.
The Dystopian Diaries Page 54
