Opus Adventure
A Story of Survival & Preparedness
Boyd Craven
Copyright © 2018 Boyd Craven III
Opus Adventure, A Story of Survival & Preparedness
By Boyd Craven
Many thanks to friends and family for keeping me writing!
All rights reserved.
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Contents
1. Rick
2. Rick
3. Opus
4. Rick
5. Tina & Opus
6. Rick
7. Rick
8. Tina & Opus
9. Rick
10. Tina
11. Rick
12. Rick
13. Opus
14. Rick
15. Tina
16. Rick
17. Rick
18. Rick & Opus
19. Rick
20. Tina
21. Rick
22. Tina & Opus
23. Rick
24. Tina
25. Rick
26. Opus
27. Rick
28. Tina & Sarge
29. Opus
30. Owen & Rick
Author’s Note
About the Author
1
Rick
I had slowed my frenetic pace of writing to a more manageable level. I was listening, but I knew if the tyrant awoke, Ophelia would let me know. Her, or her son, Sarge. I smiled, remembering the feigned outrage when we’d named our newest family member after Bud. He pretended to hate it, but the old man had smiled when he’d met the pup.
“Dadadadadadada,” the monitor erupted in noise, and I heard a low bark from the other room and the padding of feet as both dogs scrambled to charge into the office.
Ophelia launched herself onto my old futon, a relic from the days when I’d lived with Al in the small two-bedroom apartment. She made a happy whining sound before sticking her nose on my neck. Sarge ran up and grabbed the cuff of my shirt and backed up gently.
“Ok, ok, I can hear—"
“Dayeeeee!” I heard from both the monitor and the bedroom.
I walked into the bedroom where we’d set up the crib. I’d offered to dismantle my office and take over space either in the mini-storage’s office or out in the barn that Tina still ran her eBay business from. Owen was standing up, rubbing his eyes, his hair a mass of blond curls that were all sticking straight up.
“Hey, little man, have a good nap?”
Behind me Sarge barked once excitedly, and Owen looked over at him and started giggling.
“More eat?”
“You hungry or thirsty?” I asked him.
“Bubba!” Owen said, then buried his head into my neck.
“I can do that, but first, let’s get you a dry deedee on.”
He’d been learning his words at an alarming rate. I would like to be proud, but I was finding myself censoring my words and avoiding innuendo around him. For example, deedee meant he had a wet or stinky diaper. I carried him over to the changing table and got out the instruments that prevented weapons of mass destruction being flung or sprayed about the room.
Ophelia jumped on the bed to watch, but Sarge remained at my side, sitting on his haunches. I had his little human, and he knew it. I marveled at how fast the nearly two-year-old son of mine had picked up language. I’d nearly fallen off the chair in our small living room when he’d said, ‘delicious eat’. I wasn’t even sure that’s what he really meant, but he’d grabbed me by the thumb and said, ‘pull’ and led me to the kitchen. He had gotten frustrated, so I’d picked him up and he’d pointed at the freezer. I’d opened it, and he’d pointed to the Haagen Dazs and repeated ‘delicious eat,' much to Tina’s amusement.
So of course, I’d done what every new, first-time dad did: I’d made myself ready for a battle, and we’d eaten ice cream for dinner. I think Tina had only taken about fourteen hours of video.
“Oh hey,” Tina said, walking into the bedroom just as I was getting the fresh diaper fastened. “I didn’t hear him cry, sorry.”
“I stole the monitor from you. Besides, the K9 alarms would have gotten me first. I’m closer.”
“I can move the Pack-n-Play into the office if you have more work to do.”
“Sure thing,” I said, snapping his onesie back up. “Need a hand?”
Ophelia took off like a shot and Sarge followed, their nails scratching across the floor.
“In a sec, sounds like we have a customer.” She leaned in and kissed me, then hurried after the four-footed furry companions.
“You, sir, are the luckiest baby man alive,” I told him, pulling the bedroom door closed, then my office door too, before putting him on the floor.
He wobbled, then took off like a shot, yelling psychobabble that only babies could understand. I grinned and headed into the living room. The Pack-n-Play was a simple affair: take out the bottom of it, pull a red rope coming out of the middle, then collapse the sides with built-in buttons. I did all of that while listening to Owen laugh in the office, just past the kitchen. I carried it with me and saw that Tina had left the door open between the office and the living area of the building. We’d been doing that more and more.
Both of us still had our own respective nightmares and, although we were getting over them, I could see how much we had moved on for the better. Both dogs saw me head for the door and took off ahead of me. Ophelia and Sarge hit the jamb at the same time, sticking and letting out playful barks. By the time I got there, both had tumbled into the other room. Owen was laughing and clapping his pudgy baby hands together shouting “All right” like he’d learned when I’d taught him how to high five.
Opus was sitting next to Tina, alert but relaxed, and watching over the developing craziness like an old grizzled soldier watching the greenhorns work off nervous energy before being deployed. He saw me and chuffed before walking over.
“Hey, buddy, you keeping an eye on things?” I asked him.
“You mean—”
Opus turned to Tina and sneezed then put his head under my outstretched hand. I rubbed his head, scratching behind his ears. “Of course, you’re watching everything. Want to go outside and play with Ophelia and Sarge a minute?” I asked.
He chuffed then barked once, his butt wiggling as his tail started to wag. I set the baby gear down and put it together under Owen and Tina’s watchful gaze then picked the little man up.
“No, Dayee, owwwwwwwn. Owee wan owwwwwwwwwwn.”
“Assert your male dominance,” Tina said, grinning.
I put him in the Pack-n-Play and got a scrunched up face in response, Owen quickly turning an alarming shade of red. I turned before I could see the tears start falling and came out around the counter. Sarge and Ophelia were spinning circles in front of me in excitement. Opus was a little more reserved, but when I opened the door, he ran out after them, barking happily.
“We don’t have anybody back there right now do we?” I asked, suddenly realizing three dogs over a hundred pounds each might scare the bejeebers out of somebody.
“Nope, it’s been a quiet morning. I had somebody come in wanting to rent a space, but she forgot her ID so she went back to get it.”
“Ok good,” I said.
I felt Tina wrap her arms around my sides and back and I put an arm around her, hugging her tightly, my heart feeling so full. More so than I could ever remember in my lifetime.
“Dayeeeee, owwwwwww!” Owen demanded from behind me.
“If you want to get more words in, I’ve got this,” Tina told me. “You know, you don’t have to steal the monitor from me when you’re working. I’v
e done, like, three crosswords and beat three levels of Candy Crush already.”
I grinned and kissed the top of her head. “Maybe I did it because I wanted to.”
“Go back and do your thing. I got this!” She pushed herself away from me and made a shooing motion.
“Ok,” I told her, grinning. “Let me know if you need anything. Does Owen need a bottle?” I asked for both of their benefits.
“Dayee, Owwwww—”
“Daddy’s going back to work,” Tina said sweetly. “You have mommy time.” She scooped him up.
I turned at the door, ready to close it off between the office and living space and saw him bury his head in his mom’s neck, his chubby little arms wrapped around her.
“My mama,” he said, looking up enough to see me over the top of her shoulder.
I turned and walked back and put a finger on her shoulder near his head. “My mommy.”
“My Mimi!” he said louder.
Tina laughed. “If you don’t go now, you’re going to be playing for an hour and then staying up all night.”
“I’m going, I’m going. Sheesh. Hey, I’m going to leave the door open so the furry brigade of shenanigans can come back when they’re ready,” I told her.
“I’m going to close this, but I’ll let one of the older ones come back if they want. I want to work with Owen and Sarge together while we’re slow.”
I shut the door behind me and heard her talking softly. I smiled to myself and went back to work. Because of Al scaring the crap out of me a couple years back, I’d changed everything to a Mac and tightened the security of my remote access software. He’d been trying to get back at me for a crack I’d made while he’d been locked up when a political rally had gone bad, and they’d arrested everyone. I’d told him to sleep with one hand over his butt and apparently, he’d mistaken my rare snark and wit for seriousness and spent a long, sleepless night waiting to get out in the morning.
It was funny now, but back then I’d been worried. I’d had a right to be worried as it turned out, but nothing was as it had seemed. I had got some hate email from a drunk in one of the western states a month later, but I’d wrote him back and it was funny, but I’d stayed in touch with him via email and he was embarrassed by all of that. I wiggled my mouse, then typed in the password. I turned off the baby monitor, then hit play on my phone that was docked and plugged into the Bluetooth speaker.
I often couldn’t write to songs that have lyrics, not unless it’s one I’ve heard so many times that it fades into the background. Instead, I love to listen to video game soundtracks, or acoustic versions of songs I know. Sometimes I risk my man card and pop in some Lindsey Stirling and listen to some gamer covers on violin and a synthesizer. It took the buzz of outside life away and soothed the part of my brain that acted like an overwhelming amount of white noise to my creative side.
Re-reading my last few paragraphs, I was getting back into the flow. My fingers were flying over the keyboard. I was reaching the inciting event in my storyline when my music cut off and my phone buzzed. I picked it up to see I had a phone call, from somebody I hadn’t spoken to in a long stretch. Guiltily, I answered it.
“Hello?”
“Rick?” Veronica said, her words sobs.
“Veronica? Are you ok? What’s wrong?” I asked, shooting back from the keyboard, “Is it Al? What’s wrong?” Panic rose in my chest at hearing her sobs.
“Al… he said… I need… you’re…”
“Shhh,” I said, “I can’t understand you.” The door to the office thudded hard.
I pulled it open and was almost tripped as all three dogs came barreling in. Ophelia stood up on her hind legs a moment before remembering she couldn’t put her paws on me like that. Sarge wasn’t so restrained, and I pushed him back as I almost lost the phone.
“Al said to ask you if you’d be his best man!” she said, crying loudly now.
I saw movement and Tina was rushing in the door with Owen in her arms, an alarmed expression on her face.
“Best man?” I almost shouted. “You’re getting married?”
“Yes!!!!!!” she yelled into the receiver.
“Hell yes!” I called back.
“Thank you,” she sobbed, and then it sounded like she dropped the phone and there was a click.
“I heard you yelling!” Tina said, bouncing Owen on her hip.
“Sorry, it was… Veronica. She sounded upset, hurt. Al just asked her to marry him, but only if I’d be his best man.”
“Oh…” The tension drained from her face and was replaced with a smug smile.
“You knew?” I asked her, stunned.
“I knew he was going to, but I figured he chickened out. I helped him pick out the ring two months ago. He bought it on the spot.”
“Well, I’ll be dipped in—”
“Little ears!” Tina chided.
Sarge barked happily and sat down between us, with Opus and Ophelia taking spots on the futon, looking at us expectantly.
2
Rick
“Dude, bro, thank you,” Al said for the nineteenth time that day.
“You were my best man and you’re my best friend. Just don’t lock your knees and move your legs so you don’t pass out when the music starts.”
“You got the ring, right?” he asked me for the twenty-seventh time.
“No, I hocked it to the traveling circus that was passing through the parking lot, selling tickets to the freak show later on.”
“That’s not funny, dude,” Al said under his breath as the conversation drifted to the pastor who was looking at me with a grin.
“Actually, I used it to pay off the bar tab last night after you—”
“I don’t even remember last night,” Al said. “Don’t you go—”
I laughed softly and smacked him in the stomach, interrupting him.
“It’s right here on my pinky.” I held my hand up.
He relaxed and then looked back at the pastor who nodded at him, smiling.
“We’ve all gone through it; it’s the best gift you’ve ever given yourself and your wife-to-be,” he said, meaning marriage, I assumed.
“Yeah, I just can’t believe she said yes,” he said.
That was when the music started.
“Don’t lock your knees,” I told him, watching him sway on his feet.
The reception afterward was great. I’d say it was probably even more fun than mine, but I had also been nervous and overwhelmed by the turnout of people at my wedding, so I had mostly been trying to just survive. Tina dragged me to the dance floor while Ophelia watched from her spot under our table. Char had offered to watch Owen, and Opus and Sarge had decided to stay at home and watch over her and the baby. All in all, it was a good arrangement and we were at a FOE club only a few miles from the mini-storage.
I was starting to feel the effects of two drinks and exhaustion, but Tina wasn’t quite ready to go yet. She pulled me onto the floor for one more dance when Shinedown’s cover of Simple Man came on. I surprised myself by leading her on the dance floor for once and enjoyed the look of surprise. At the end, I kissed her hard.
“Dude, I didn’t know you had any moves,” Al said, walking up and putting his hand on my shoulder.
“Yeah, I don’t think he danced like that at your wedding!” Veronica said.
“I think he’s been holding back on me,” Tina said, punching my shoulder.
“Maybe I watched some YouTube,” I told them defensively.
“You about to split, man?” Al asked me suddenly.
Tina looked at me, her eyes a little glassy from drinking and having a lot of fun.
“I think so, it’s almost two o’clock,” I told him.
“Actually, we’re ready to wrap it up too, but see… Veronica had this bet that you wouldn’t make it as long—”
She punched him in the stomach gently, but it caught him off guard. Ophelia came out from under the table, sliding to a stop between Tina and I and looked
up at Al, her head cocked to the side.
“She’s not going to make Al cry,” Tina said, smoothing her ears back.
Ophelia chuffed and then rubbed her head against Tina.
“I think I’m going to skate,” I told him. “It’s late, and the little tyrant is with a neighbor. I’m sure she don’t mind, but he’s going to wake up and—”
“You don’t got to tell me, bro,” Al said then pointed at Veronica’s stomach, “we’re about to find out how it goes… in like seven months?” he whispered, looking to her and she nodded.
Shotgun Wedding! I almost shouted the words, but knew they were wrong and inappropriate. Besides, that was the beer talking.
“Congrats!” Tina and I chorused, “Jinx, you owe me a coke!” then we busted up laughing.
“I just hope getting married doesn’t make me lame like these two,” Veronica said, pulling Al by the shoulder.
He followed but she turned around and gave us a smile and mouthed, “Thank you!” We gave her a wave.
“I feel bad, shouldn’t we stick around to help clean?” Tina asked.
“No, he’s got a service for that,” I told her, just as the music turned off.
“That’s our cue,” Tina said, pulling me by the hand.
I woke up to a small form crawling up on me. I heard a soft snore beside me as Tina slept. My legs were pinned, and I could hear Opus also snoring from his dog bed by my side. The form was hairless and smelled oddly like milk, and I realized Tina must have pulled Owen into the bed from the crib. He’d been sleeping uneasy. He wasn’t a fussy baby much, but he’d been teething lately. He had some molars coming in that were driving him bonkers… and causing us all to sleep fitfully.
Opus Adventure Page 1
