Clem's Contrivance: Terrorist Fiction In The Deep South (The Apocalyptic Rifle Book 1)

by Ron Foster

  “O.K., Jimmy I can travel now, what’s next on the day’s agenda? Are we going to poke our feet in the sand for awhile and sit around here wondering what to do? Or are we going to get this show on the road and head to the factory as fast as we can?” said an amazingly revived Marlissa who had gotten her color and energy back. She handed the washcloth back to Nancy and began to regain her feet looking like she was pretty much well again and voiced protest to everyone’s concerns that she out to stay resting for a while longer.

  “Are you sure you’re alright, honey? We’re not in no rush. The world’s already gone to hell in a hand basket and I don’t think 10 or 20 minutes will make no never mind either way with is getting in line out on the highway to make the mad dash to safety.” Nancy said regarding the old woman while checking her facial color and composure.

  “Aw hell, darling, don’t you worry yourself none about me, you have already had the fits and miseries of menopause before, just put it down to one of those hot flashes we women sometimes get and I’m ready to rock and roll when ya’ll are!” Marlissa said regaining her feet and beaming a smile that said ‘damn the torpedoes full speed ahead’ I am a coming through!

  “Well that’s that then, come on honey bear, we’ll get this procession on the road.” Palmer said giving her a supporting hug as they went across the dirt parking lot to Jimmy’s vehicle and got ready to leave the parking lot.

  6

  COMMUNICATION BREAKDOWN

  “What’s up Julie, are you enjoying plantation life?” David said as he was skinning out a buck he has hung up on a gambrel by the barn while LowBuck pretended to supervise and offer assistance but he was actually playing bartender and bull shitting with David more than he was actually helping. David didn’t mind in the least and having your own bartender and towel passer was lots of help in his opinion.

  “I see you two had good luck this morning, did you shoot him or snare him?’ Julie said admiring the carcass.

  “Snared him of course, you think I could sneak up anything with this big heathen following me through the woods!” David said laughing and enjoying the opportunity to just to poke fun at his friend.

  “I will remember that crack of yours David next time you ask me to help you carry something back from the woods or want a hand or some help with something.” LowBuck grumbled good naturedly. Actually Lowbuck was one of the better hunters and stood out as the best shot in the group. That is if you put him in a blind out on a transmission line clear cut for a long distance target or up in a tree stand where the deer would pass by him unnoticed. Stalking or sneaking up on one however was not his forte, David wasn’t to slick at it either at the moment but he was remembering his boyhood skills and getting better at it, but he was still kind of holding the opinion why bother when he was the groups master snare man and making noise in the woods drove fleeing animals into his snares.

  “I see your little girlfriend is coming over here.” Julie teased David as she spied Rossi Ross walking in their direction.

  David preferred trapping and snaring on his own most of the time but soon found out that having Rossi Ross around or tagging along made his job much easier because she knew the woods around here and the animal’s habits better than he could ever hope to learn. She was a bit pesky to have around though because she always had a gazillion questions at the ready about how a snare trigger was made or wanted to know every detail possible about the new people around her etc. but she could put you on the fish and game quick and that was no small task. Her not stop questions or telling you her fanciful versions of stories would drive you batty though. Her routine of non stop babbling kind of went like this.

  “David what did Slim use to do for a living before the disaster? David did you have a phonograph? If no body uses phonographs anymore could he find her one she could have? How did David know he wouldn’t catch a skunk in a snare instead of a raccoon? How do you get the skunk out of a trap without being sprayed if he caught one anyway? Could David find her some ribbons for Bertha’s birthday coming up and would he trade them to her for some pickles? How many pickles did he think some ribbons would be worth? When was it his birthday? How old was he going to be? When was it Julie’s birthday? Did she have any ribbons Etc. in a non stop litany that sometimes drove David ear ringing mad but in spite of it all he really liked the little girl despite the grumpy front he put on whenever she was around.

  What really got to him though was her habit of all the sudden just popping up out of nowhere. She could suddenly appear from out behind a tree or bush with her customary greeting of “Hi YA!” that could give you a start and be quite unnerving. You never knew where she was at any given moment or for that matter even if she was lurking in the general area and David caught himself looking over his shoulder constantly or peering deeply into the woods for the little scamp when he set out upon his lonely sojourns of running his trap lines. He took lots of precautions oftentimes to no avail so she wouldn’t unexpectedly scare the wits out of him by magically appearing like a ghost in the pines but it didn’t do much good.

  That girl was as silent in the woods as a feather falling on the leaves; she also had the bad habit of sneaking up and eavesdropping in on conversations back at camp that were not meant for her ears and she had run and told tales to Bertha and Clem of what she may or may not have understood correctly and that little tattletale had caused a few problems until her gossipy nature was curbed.

  One particular day that they all remembered in particular was when she had overheard Lowbuck and David discussing squashing any notions Clem and Bertha had of rebooting civilization by setting up a general store out on the highway and Rossi not knowing what a notion was or the term rebooting for that matter, she was beside herself in angry tears as she ran to tell them that David and Lowbuck must have been mad at Clem and Bertha and that they were planning to pelt them with squashes to hurt their notions and boot them around some to make them be more civilized. Her vocabulary was really increasing being around so many educated people however and it was often quite funny to hear how she applied a new word she had recently heard to a situation it didn’t apply too.

  Clem had taught her to read somewhat and she knew his version of history pretty well but she had amazing thirst for more knowledge and would listen with rapt attention to anything and everything she didn’t know about before starting the fusillade of questions she had burning in her mind that just had to bust out and be asked all at once.

  David’s good friend Muncie was totally the opposite; she liked to talk as fast as the wind and then talk louder and faster than you sometimes thinking she was anticipating whatever right or wrong she thought you were going to say before a body could get an answer from her or ask a her a straight question This was both her nature and way that you just sort of overlooked if you were her friend because she was one of the sweetest of souls when she was conscious of her habit of over talking you but it could get aggravating when say you were talking about one thing and all the sudden Muncie would turn the conversation towards what ever flight of fancy just crossed her mind or have to include some life experience of hers or a story about one of her relatives in the mix and you forgot what it was you were trying to tell her or figure out to begin with let alone what it was she was trying to tell you 10 minutes ago before you got on some new subject.

  Muncie was David’s secret weapon when it came to distracting Rossi or anybody else he needed to keep busy or find out the life history and names of all the relatives of. Muncie wasn’t the only one that had an odd way of approaching a subject, lots of country folk in the south manage to confuse or boor you to death while you are waiting for them to get to the point or back on the subject. Somebody might start a conversation out by asking a question like “what kind of dog is that?” The answer you got would resemble, well I am not sure but my sister’s mother-in-law Eunice, that is married to Earl, who is a Smith by marriage said that my Uncle Wilbur once had one that looked like that and my cousin Mabel told me her next-door neighbo
r Mary Sue who is a Jones said them kind of dogs might be a mix like Uncle Sullies dog Bart that was part German Shepard and one of those Cantalo Leopard hunting dogs from Louisiana,. There isn’t no Leopards in Louisiana to hunt , they just call them dogs that cause they are kinda blue spouted looking like a leopard cat but I hear lots of people call them Yellow cantallos and I can’t figure out is there a Blue Cantaloo and a yellow one or are they one in the same? Did you ever see a Cantaloo before? My next-door neighbor Sara has one but that dog is sort of spotted like a Dalmatian but when he was younger he looked white. Lots of times they mix them with them weird blue eyed border collies and they can look like a cantallo regular. Very annoying right? But also a very effective way to keep both of them busy chattering about something somewhere other than where David might be hanging out at.

  7

  DINNER IS SERVED

  “Hey Clem, welcome back old buddy, grab yourself a seat. You going to visit with us awhile?” David said poking at the campfire with a stick and studying him trying to discern what brought him over their way so quickly.

  “Evening Clem, I take it Bertha just run you off.” Crick said looking at his sour expression.

  “Yea I got myself runoff for a bit, there is no talking to her at the moment, she done got her one of her crazy notions and is over there sewing and a stitching to beat the band. That girl of yours Julie is over there helping her sew also David. You need to gather yourself up and go and get her back here quick. I tell you what makes matters worse is that Julie is agreeing with Bertha’s bat brained notions and is backing her up and teaching the old crow some highbrow psychology mumbo jumbo college shit about some theory called “the Man in the Mirror.” You best try to get your woman out of there David before the pot boils over, no disrespect to you or her but she is playing with fire trying to educate or put thoughts into the head of that old black woman. You already know Bertha is likely going to misinterpret whatever in the world it is she is trying to explain to her and then there won’t be no living with the old girl afterwards once she warps up whatever the concept was. Go see if you can break up that little gossipy sewing circle David, it’s interfering with my business plans and costing me time and money.” Clem said somewhat exasperated.

  “Hold on now Clem, slow down some, you are going to have to explain a few things a lot bit better before I even begin to think about going to fetch anybody back over here. I have no idea what it is that you’re talking about or why I should be concerned and interfere in something as simple as Julie just helping her sew something odd. What’s the matter are they making some of that stupid hat underwear Bertha is infatuated with and you maybe want Bertha to darn your old socks or something?” David said befuddled and confused as to what the wily old man wanted and why.

  “Worse than that David, far worse than that. They are making for themselves something that Bertha calls “mirror window curtains”. I tell you what, that danged women is foolishly superstitious and bedeviled enough about mirrors already without that fancy lady of yours filling up her head with some kind of scientific rigormoroll about why making those foolish curtain things makes sense at this point in time. Bad enough Bertha covers the mirrors with cloth whenever somebody passes away anyway, but now Julie is telling her that me or some other man might be living in them mirrors. I had me a business idea that me and Bertha could be doing that wouldn’t have took much of her time making pot socks for and now I got to figure me something else out.” Clem said trying to wrap his head around a strange academic theory he had overheard on his way up to the porch to ask Bertha to sew him up some pot socks before she told him she was busy.

  “Clem you heard that bit about the man in the mirror wrong!’ David said laughing.

  “Get you a drink and pull yourself up a tree stump next to the fire and I will tell you what that theory means and you can eventually tell me what the hell pot socks are.” David said chuckling and then exclaimed “You Too?!” towards Crick that wasn’t following this odd conversation worth a damn at the moment and was eying them both curiously.

  “Clem all they meant by applying the “Man in the Mirror” theory to you if that was what they were talking about was the question “who do you see when you look in the mirror?” Not the physical you but the inner being. Psychologically wise someone might ask the question “do you like what you see”? Are you happy with yourself? Of course if you have been up to any mean tricks they might be talking about how can you look yourself in the face and be happy about what you have done and not be ashamed, embarrassed, regretful etc. with yourself. That theory thing she is talking about is usually taught in sociology so you can study yourself as well the way you can study others. What do people see when they look in the mirror? How do you view them viewing you etc? How do you think they view themselves? There are many different levels you can take this to but ultimately it all boils down to how you view yourself in the mirror influences the way you view others and they view you. Then you get into the biggie most folks don’t really consider for themselves unless it is pointed out to them and that’s something which you are already probably know and are good at, because you seem to understand leadership very well.” David said taking a sip from his drink and watching the conflicting emotions of his audience cross their faces.

  “David what the hell has that got to do with the price of tea in China? I swear every time I try to get a straight answer in laymen terms about some mukity muck big word reference that you city folk ain`t got not nothing better to do than just throw out carelessly as you put on airs and get all windy and uppity about it cause I haven’t caught on yet, you forget I can say the same thing with simpler words and in less time.’ Clem said hands on hips.

  “Well Clem I was leading up to a particular point but I was doing it in a round about fashion if you can be patient with me a bit longer, its hard to condense down all the thoughts that might go through a man or woman’s head when they look in the mirror and its even worse if you are thinking about yourself as how an observer views someone one thinking about themselves looking in a mirror and whether or not your own personal prejudices interfere with a true observation. Ok, Ok, I know that sounds like a lot of gobility gook but it actually can be just condensed down to one significant thing… “Who is their comparison other?” Who do you look up to in the performance of their job for example if you consider them your boss? Do you think this person leads by example and obeys the same rules that are enforced on you? Are you jealous or rebellious about them being able to circumvent or pretend the same measures apply to them? Do you think you could do a better job than them or are they the pinnacle point for what you try to make out of yourself and emulate and proud to have them as your leader? Can you see those traits in yourself? Anyway, don’t sweat it Clem they probably were not talking about you. What are they making them mirror dresses out of? Not all black cloth like a Victorian funeral parlor I hope.” David said trying to envision what Bertha`s new decorations might resemble or how everyone’s parlor was going to look in a day or two.

  “They mirror window curtains David! Get it right! Not dresses, mirror curtains, say it now, mirror window curtains! Please keep it straight and don’t be getting the words wrong or mixed up for them things around Bertha or she will be thinking about adding a decorative skirt to them or something. No she is making them the curtains the Bertha way in all kinds of colors and styles, got pieces of old patchwork quilt ones, frilly lace around the backend of an old pair of blue jeans so the mirror now has pockets ones, old sheets and bits of doll dress ones you name it. She is wasting the hell out of materials and fabric I needs for my pocket money project! Said an exasperated Clem to an apologetic David for getting the name of those crazy mirror shades wrong.

  “I kind of get what you are saying David about the man in the mirror thing though. I guess I could say what they might be thinking is, or they are doing by making those frilly mirror curtain ugly wall hangers is keeping folks from seeing themselves as ragged and sickly looking as they are.
Bertha said she is going to close the mirror curtains when she has guests to come over sometimes. Her and Julie are going to be sure and close off access to them mirrors just like they was getting ready for a funeral I suppose if they see anybody coming. Bertha said it weren’t good for them folks to start studying themselves and thinking how tired and wasting away they looked, anyway ten to one that’s not it and she is thinking she don’t want to trap any misery or sickness in them mirrors on account of some other weird hoodoo voodoo thing she thinks might be real or might not be real that she believes she needs to take what she calls precautions with. You notice she has been putting daubs of blue paint here and there on the barn? I tell you about that hex warding off symbols or colors and stuff later. Anyways I was thinking some paint here and there around this place might cheer folks up or give them something to do if they had any free time. I got a question for your know it all self David, see if you can answer this one. Do you know why barns are usually painted red?” Clem said smirking.

  “No Clem I can’t say that I do. Why is that do you suppose?” David said after thinking about it for a moment or two and getting an “I don’t know either” shrug from Crick in response to his question.

  “Ha smart boy! Knew I would get you on that one. I will tell you why then. You see used to be around here that all the bridges and barns went unpainted. Wasn’t any need for no paint and no one had any money or place to buy it no ways. If you use the right wood in the right place folks had already discovered that those boards needed no paint on them to not rot. All the houses in the earliest settling of this place were not painted. Folks didn’t have money for such extravagances like paint. However, the art of seasoning and choosing the right woods gave way to the art of artificial preservation. Eventually building materials and methods changed to use the cheaper artificially preserved stuff. Soon folks became color paint-conscious to hide the preservative coloring or al them extra knot holes and such in the cheaper lumber. In Pennsylvania, the Dutch settlements latched on to the custom of red bricks, red barns, red geraniums, even reddish-brown was ok. It kind of mimicked that only rich folks could afford bricks so they tried looking wealthy by painting or decorating that way. Inasmuch as ready-made paint was not available, a farmer mixed his own up and made do. Someone discovered that skimmed milk, lime and red iron oxide made a plastic-like coating that hardened quickly and lasted for years. Occasionally, it hardened too well and peeled off in sheets. Linseed oil was subsequently added to the recipe to provide the necessary soaking quality. Thus American “barn red” was born. It came into being through function and utility, rather than decor or superstition. It was soon discovered that the red barn color was warmer in winter since it absorbed the sun’s rays.” Clem said proud of his historic country wisdom.