Alone Again_After the Collapse

by John Sullins

Keith immediately dropped onto his back and wrapped his right arm around the man’s neck and gripped his right hand onto his left forearm. He pushed on the back of the man’s neck with the palm of his left hand, while applying pressure on the side of the man’s neck. The man swung his fist sideways towards Keith’s face but Keith saw the blow coming and leaned back, the fist missed by an inch.

  “Stop struggling and I’ll let you up.”

  In a slurred muffled voice the man said, “I’m gunna kill you.”

  Keith pushed and squeezed harder applying even more pressure and watched the man’s face turn cherry red. When the man went limp Keith stood up and looked at Dale.

  “Are you ok?”

  Dale shook his wrist, “I think I may have broken my wrist when I hit him.”

  “Are you guys ok?” They turned to see a woman standing in the doorway of the store. She asked again, “Are you ok?”

  “Yes, we are fine,” answered Keith.

  The woman walked their direction, “Those two drunks cause trouble every time they come in here.”

  She walked to the truck, got in, started the engine and moved it to the edge of the lot near the street. When she got out, she said, “Go ahead and move your car to the pump. I suggest you get your gas and get out of here before they wake up. They may have a gun or two in the truck.”

  Keith nodded to Dale, “You pump the gas, I’ll check the truck for weapons.”

  He did not wait for an answer. He walked to the passenger side of the truck and looked in the glove box. He grabbed a handful of papers and envelops and dumped them onto the floorboard, no guns.

  He bent over and looked under the seats. He pulled out a leather holster and semi auto pistol. He kept it near the floor as he pulled the pistol from the holster. He raised up and looked towards the two down men. The man who Dale hit was still not moving but the other one was on his hands and knees, face towards the ground.

  Keith put the pistol back in the holster and shoved it down the back of his pants under his jacket. He stood up, closed the truck’s door and returned to Dale.

  “Let’s get out of here before they get up if we can.”

  “The tank’s full. Let me pay and we can go.” He put the hose back onto the pump and trotted inside to pay.

  The woman took his money and said, “I hate those two. I loved seeing them get the shit kicked out of them for a change. If they call the cops, I didn’t see anything.”

  “Thanks, but don’t get yourself in any trouble for us.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Even if they call the cops, they might not come. There is not anyone to answer the phone at the sheriff’s office most of the time.”

  Chapter 12

  Keith waited until they were about thirty miles from the store before he pulled the holster and pistol from his waist band.

  “Damn kid, you took his gun?”

  “He won’t report it stolen.”

  Dale looked him directly in the eyes, “How do you know that?”

  Keith slid the pistol from the holster, pushed the button to drop out the magazine, and pulled back on the slide to eject the live nine millimeter round from the chamber. He held the pistol sideways so Dale could see the side of the gun. “The serial number has been sanded off. I’d say it is a stolen gun, they can’t report it.”

  “If you get caught with that thing, you’ll go to jail.”

  “Probably, but under the circumstances out here on the road, it could also save my life.”

  Dale turned his attention back to the highway ahead of them and lifted his right hand from the steering wheel and held it out towards Keith.

  “Does my wrist look broken?”

  Keith gently held Dales hand in his and twisted it slightly to look at both sides.

  “It’s swelling up, it might be broke. Do you want me to drive?”

  “Yea, I’ll pull over at the next exit. I think I have a plastic bag in the back. I’ll fill it with snow and use it as an ice pack.”

  “Do you want to find a hospital?”

  “No, not yet.”

  Keith let go of his wrist. “That was one hell of a right cross. He went down and didn’t move.”

  “I did some cage fighting for a while, when I first got out of the Marines. I started to go pro, but I needed money on a more regular basis than I was getting by fighting so I quit.”

  “What was your record?”

  “14 and 0 with five knock outs.”

  “Wow Dale, that’s pretty good. I’m glad you weren’t throwing punches at me.”

  “Hey, you did ok back there. I used the rear naked choke to win a couple of fights. You got on him quick with that move. You had to have done that before, right?”

  Keith glanced out his window, took a deep breath before answering. “Yea, I used it once in Syria. Well, not exactly the same move, but similar.”

  Dale knew he was hearing only half the story, “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s ok.”

  “Naw, it’s ok. I have no remorse, the guy I used it on had just shot one of the men in our platoon. We were clearing a house in Damascus when we received fire from a house on the edge of the city. We cleared the first floor fine but when we went up the stairs to the second floor two rag heads opened up on us. My buddy in front of me got hit and went down. I returned fire and blew holes in the head of one of them. The second one jumped out a window onto the roof and I went after him. He must have been out of ammo because as I went through the window he swung his AK47 and hit me on the shoulder knocking my rifle from my hands. We wrestled around until I got him in the choke hold, except that time I got my wrist across his throat and pulled until he was dead. When I got up I dragged him to the edge of the roof and tossed him over the side.”

  He sat silent for a couple of minutes. “That was as mad as I have ever been. It’s hard to see a buddy die.”

  “Are you sure it does not bother you to talk about it?”

  “No, to be honest, I went there not knowing what to expect. But after what I saw those people do, it did not bother me a bit to kill them.”

  “Did you kill others?”

  “He was the only one I killed with my hands, but I know for sure I dropped 7 with my rifle.” He turned the pistol around and saw it was a Smith and Wesson.

  Dale looked at his wrist. “I shot four in the mountains between Iran and Iraq. I was on sniper duty watching a trail they were using to move weapons and ammo. We’d go out for two weeks at a time and sit as high up on the mountain as we could get and still see the trail. It worked, we were able to stop the movement on that trail.”

  They were approaching an exit ramp so he slowed the car and stopped at the bottom of the ramp. They both got out, Dale found a plastic bag in the back seat and filled it with snow. Keith put the pistol under the driver’s seat and got behind the wheel.

  Dale rested the bag of snow on his wrist, leaned his head back against the head rest, closed his eyes and said, “Take me home driver.”

  Chapter 13

  Keith drove the remainder of the way to Boston because Dale’s wrist had turned black and blue.

  “I’m glad you said you would help me with the stuff in the house. I won’t be able to do much with only one hand.”

  “I’m happy to help and it gives me a warm place to stay while I earn a few dollars. You are doing me a favor.”

  Dale gave directions to the house which was in a neighborhood of a hundred year old wood frame houses sitting on narrow lots. They parked on the street in front of the house and were greeted by Dale’s sister who Keith thought looked more like his mother than his sister. He guessed she had to be in her mid-fifties, maybe twenty years older than Dale. She was dressed in faded jeans, a filthy sweat shirt and a ball hat hiding most of her short brown hair.

  Dale got out of the car as she approached and gave him a quick hug.

  “Keith, this is my sister, Squeaky.”

  She punched him in the shoulder and turned to face Keith. “My name is Deanna, n
ot Squeaky. He has called me that since we were kids.”

  There was no doubt in Keith’s mind why he called her Squeaky. Her voice was as high pitched as he had ever heard.

  Keith smiled, “Nice to meet you Deanna, I’m Keith.”

  Dale held up his swollen wrist so she could see it. “I have asked Keith to stay and help us with the house. I won’t be lifting anything very heavy. He is on his way to Maine and needs a place to stay and a job for a few days.”

  “Great, the place is a mess, we need all the help we can get.”

  Dale looked towards the house, “What about electricity, what’s the schedule? What about heat in the house?”

  “Electricity is on from 6-7:30 AM and then again from 6-9 PM Monday through Friday and from only 7-9 PM on Saturday and Sunday. The fireplace is fine and we have plenty of firewood in the garage behind the house.”

  Dale asked, “What about water?”

  “The water is on, and the hot water tank works, but it takes at least an hour after the electricity comes on for it to get hot enough for a shower.”

  “When is the auction?”

  “Saturday, we have four days to get things ready, but like I said, the place is a mess. There is junk everywhere.”

  Keith picked up his suitcase and followed them up the front steps and into the house.

  “Holly crap, how did this happen?” Dale blurted out when he saw the living room.

  Deanna looked as if she was about to cry. “It had to be Aunt Gloria and Uncle Raymond. Momma said that when Grandpa died and Grandma was moved to the nursing home, they lived here for the past year. They had to have been the ones who brought this stuff here.”

  “Where are they now?”

  She shook her head, “I don’t know. Momma has been trying to find them for six months. She said they were talking about going to Florida, to get away for the cold winters, but she doesn’t know for sure.”

  Dale walked slowly around the room looking at the boxes and furniture, some stacked on top of other furniture. “Well, if they aren’t here, and we can’t find them, we’ll sell everything. If they get upset, it’s their own fault.”

  “If you two are hungry, I have some groceries in the frig. I can fix you something.”

  Dale did not hesitate, “Yes, we need to eat.”

  Chapter 14

  Keith stood in the corner of the kitchen staying out of Deanna’s way as she moved back and forth from the stove to the sink and cupboards preparing their dinner. As he watched her stirring a pan of stew, he thought about how often in the past year since he and his best friend Jim had left the Army, he had eaten a hot meal inside a warm house.

  As best he could remember, it had happened the night of the fire and then once in the farm house when the farmer’s wife cooked their dinner in exchange for helping cut some firewood. Most nights they had to eat outside using a campfire, eat cold food or not eat at all.

  He moved a few steps to his right to get closer to the kitchen’s heat vent. The warm air blowing up his pant leg felt great. He thought about the many nights he and Jim had slept out in the cold, taking turns getting up to add wood to the campfire, if it was not raining and they had dry firewood.

  He glanced towards Dale who was sitting at the table looking at a copy of his grandparents will. After a few minutes Dale looked up with a puzzled look on his face.

  “Squeaky, have you been in the garage?”

  She continued to stir the pot, “Yes, why?”

  “Is there a minivan in there?”

  “Yes, but I doubt that it runs. I think it has flat tires too.”

  Dale slowly turned his head to face Keith, “Are you any good at mechanics?”

  Keith moved to the table and sat down across from him. “I can do some minor stuff.”

  “I told you I’d pay you for helping us get ready here and I am going to do that. But since I won’t be as much help as I had expected, how about I let you have the minivan, if you can get it running. It’d beat the hell out of hitchhiking or walking to Maine.”

  “I think it would be great, but I doubt I could buy gas. What did you have to pay for the last tank you bought, $60 or $70 a gallon?”

  Dale laughed, “Yea, that’s about right. If the thing get 20-25 miles per gallon, a tank might get you there. How far is it to where you are going from here?”

  “I don’t know, let me get my atlas.” He got up and went to his suitcase. He returned and began going through the pages and adding up the mileage. He nodded his head, “Best guess is about 300 miles.”

  “Hey, that should get you there.”

  Keith thought about the possibility. “I’d have no insurance and what about a license plate?”

  Dale said, “How many cops did we see on the highway getting here? The risk of getting a ticket or the van being towed is a lot better than the risks of hitchhiking or freezing to death.”

  “Yea, I agree, it might be worth looking at.”

  “You two can check it out later. Put some bowls on the table and grab the utensils from the drawer, it’s time to eat.”

  The stew was made mostly from cans but as far as Keith was concerned it was delicious.

  “Deanna, this is good. I really appreciate you fixing me dinner.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. After you take a look around at how much we have to do here, you may not think you got such a good deal.”

  “What makes you think it will be so hard”

  “Every room is jammed with stuff. I don’t know if the stuff is junk or valuable antiques. Some should probably be thrown away and not even considered for the auction.”

  Keith chewed a piece of the tough canned meat, swallowed, and said, “If it is an auction, why junk anything. I’ve always believed the saying, one man’s junk is another man’s treasure, sell it all.”

  “That’s ok with me, but I think we need to look at the furniture and other big stuff first. If we get through it, organize it, then we can look at the smaller stuff.”

  He lifted his water glass to his lips and took a long drink. “What kind of stuff is here?”

  Dale looked at his sister, “Have you been through the basement?”

  “The basement is full of grandpa’s tools, several big power tools. There is also a lot of outdoor stuff. I think it’s his old camping and hunting gear.”

  Dale asked, “What about the attic?”

  “Jesus Dale, I can’t get up there. I have no idea what’s in the attic.”

  They continued to talk about the contents of the house until they finished eating.

  Dale stood up, “I’ll come back and do the dishes after Keith and I take a look at the garage and the minivan. I want to take a look before the electricity goes off so we have lights out there.

  Keith thanked Deanna again and followed Dale out the door to the garage.

  They entered the garage through the door facing the house. The overhead door was on the opposite end and opened onto a narrow ally. Dale flipped the light switch illuminating the room. The wall to their right was lined with cardboard boxes about four feet high. The wall on the opposite side of the light blue minivan was clean, nothing stacked there except a couple of garden tools.

  There was a long narrow workbench built along the wall beside the door. The wall over the bench was covered with hand tools, hammers, pliers, saws, and screwdrivers. There were several red plastic gas cans on the floor under the workbench.

  Keith walked around the minivan looking at it. “A Ford, two flat tires.”

  Dale said, “One thing we need to keep our eyes open for is a battery charger. I think we’ll be needing one.”

  Keith got into the driver’s seat and found keys in the ignition. He turned the key and the only noise was a slow clicking from under the engine.

  “You’re right, we need a charger.”

  Chapter 15

  The electricity went off and the house went dark at exactly 9 PM. The three sat in the living room around the fireplace, each with a cardboard box i
n front of them. They went through the boxes and separating the contents into piles of items to be sold at the auction and items they considered trash.

  Dale lifted up a handful of dirty men’s athletic socks, “Trash,” and threw them on the floor between Keith and Deanna.

  Deanna dug deep into a tall narrow box and came out with a pair of children’s snow boots. “These are not too bad, someone will be able to use them.” She sat them on the floor near her feet.

  Keith rooted through the box between his feet. This one is full of plastic clothes pins and hangars. Not worth much, but not trash. Do we have a marker? We should mark what’s in each box and stack the saleable stuff so the auctioneer will be able to know what’s in each box.”

  Deanna got up and went to the kitchen. A minute later she came back with two markers, one black and on red. “Don’t destroy any of the boxes, if we have any we don’t need for the stuff to be sold, we’ll stuff them full of the trash and set them outside.”

  They went through box after box until they had been through every box that had cluttered the living room floor. The boxes to be sold were stacked one on top of another along the wall to the right of the front door. Deanna counted them, “44 boxes.”

  Keith asked, “Do we have blankets? I’ll sleep here on the floor and keep the fire going if that’s ok.”

  Deanna objected. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor, use the couch or we’ll drag in a mattress from one of the beds.”

  “I really don’t need a mattress. I’ve been sleeping in ditches, on rocks and sticks, and about everything else with lumps since I left the Army.”

  Dale studied his face for a long minute. “You’ve had it rough haven’t you?”

  “I’m not complaining. Under the circumstances, the economy being so bad, I am happy to be here in this warm house and have a full belly. You folks are making my trip a lot easier than I had expected.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Deanna.

  Keith moved to the fireplace and put another log in the flames. “I expected to walk most of the way and be sleeping outside. I was lucky enough to spend one night in an abandoned farm house with a fireplace. I found an old tarp there and thought that was what I would use as a tent.”