“Oh, no worries, I’m actually in town. I thought I’d drop it off,” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.
At the same time, I heard the crunch of gravel and saw a car pulling up to the house. It was a red Acura, same as last time. I almost cursed aloud.
“I’ll see you in a second,” I said walking out the front of the house and pocketing my phone.
Kristen got out and walked up to give me a hug. I hugged her back, but it was awkward, because I didn’t know where Lucy was, or if she was watching.
“Thought I’d surprise you, oh… Ohhh,” Kristen held her hand up to her mouth and then a big grin came across her face and she slugged me in the shoulder repeatedly as she laughed.
“What? Owwwww, Dammit,” I said confused.
“Um… Hi, I’m Lucy,” I heard a voice say from behind me.
I was expecting the worst. I turned around ready to be killed by an evil glare, but Lucy was almost laughing, Spencer on her hip. I heard the car door open and turned back to Kristen, and a younger man, his hair cut short, wearing fatigues got out of the car.
“Howdy,” I said, backing up a step so I could see the stranger and put some distance between me and Kristen.
“I’m Ken, how ya doing?” the man stuck his hand out across the hood of the little car.
“Great, I’m Brian. This is Lucy and little Spencer,” I said as they joined my side, “Lucy, this is my friend Kristen.”
“Nice to meet you,” Lucy shook hands with both of them.
“This is my new friend Ken I was telling you about,” Kristen said, “He wanted to come on an auction with me and it being a Friday and he’s off duty for the next two weeks…”
“Oh, the pizza!” Lucy said, handing me Spencer and sprinting towards the house.
I held the little man, who immediately started to talk about SpongeBob and trying to get me to go back inside.
Kristen’s was laughing. “I gave you a hug and you acted like I was shocking you with electricity. I take it she isn’t just a friend?”
I hadn’t told her about Lucy. I mean, the date was impromptu and everything.
“First date,” I said, “She lives on the other side of the fence, three doors south of Randy. Wait, I’m not sure if this is even a date or… She’s a widower, like me,” I stammered the words out.
“First dates always give me the jitters,” Ken admitted, “Looks like you’re doing fine.”
“Here, you’ve got the kid, we’ll carry the ammo in,” Kristen said.
Back in the house, Spencer asked me to put him down and I wasn’t surprised when he ran towards my couch and plopped himself back down, hugging a throw pillow close as the ‘pineapple under the sea’ song played.
“C’mon in,” I said holding the door open.
I knew they must have been hit by the smell the same way I was, and it was heavenly. I turned to take a box from Kristen and saw the kitchen table had been set with five plates. I went with it, watching Lucy deftly cut the slices with a rolling cutter.
“Meat Lover’s or Vegetarian?” she asked the room at large.
“Oh well, we were just going to drop off…” This time it was Kristen who stammered.
“I’d love a slice of that meat lover’s, please ma’am,” Ken walked in and looked around and then gave me a nod.
“One of each for me,” I said.
“Vegetarian,” Kristen said after hesitation, adding, “Sorry, didn’t mean to crash a first date on you,” she patted me on the arm, “but that pizza smells awesome.
“That isn’t DiGiorno!” Ken said, taking the place Lucy pointed to.
“Come and eat buddy,” she called to Spencer who suddenly got busy and almost tripped himself running to the table.
“I uh, don’t have a chair or booster seat.” I admitted.
“I’m a big boy, I don’t need a baby chair,” Spender told me, matter of factly.
* * *
It turned out that the crust was a sourdough pizza crust she’d been working on and the combination of that flavor plus the butter and garlic on the crust made it one of the best pizzas I’d ever eaten in my life. I had three large slices before I had to call it quits. The bag of supplies she brought had been pre-chopped toppings and cheeses. Regular mozzarella had been improved with feta and a sharp cheddar on the vegetarian. The slices were so thick, I ended up using a fork and knife, something I’d never do unless I was eating in public.
“Oh wow,” Kristen said patting her stomach, “that was awesome.”
And suddenly the girls started talking, lost to their own world of recipes and baking secrets that men weren’t supposed to know about.
“You active duty?” I asked Ken.
He was a little younger than me, and looked like a short version of Arnold. He was all muscle, whereas I was lanky. He was darker skinned to my lighter. I could see how he would catch Kristen’s eye. I hoped he was good enough for her, so I figured I’d needle him with questions to make sure he wasn’t a creeper and then I wouldn’t have to worry.
“Yeah, I’ve got two more years,” he said between bites on his pizza crust, “how about you?”
“Never served,” I said, “Thought about it, but got married right away.”
“What happened?” Ken asked, his voice low.
“Car accident,” I said as softly, but Kristen and Lucy both looked up at me.
I ignored them, and Ken made a pained expression. “Sorry man, I didn’t—“
“No worries. Lucy, this pizza was probably the best thing I’ve ever had,” I said, meaning it, but trying to change the subject all the same.
“Thanks, I love sourdough and wondered what would a pizza taste like with flavored sourdough crust; you’re eating experiment number three!” She smiled at the compliment.
“I’m betting experiment #2 was just as good,” Ken said, proving that the best way to a man’s heart is his stomach, and the way to a woman’s is genuine flattery.
“Number one was stinky,” Spencer called, obviously standing on the couch so he could see over the back of it.
We all chuckled, and Ken asked me about the farm and the animals. I expected Spencer to perk up at that and remember that he was supposed to see them, but after he’d sat down, he’d remained silent. I hadn’t seen him for a few minutes.
Kristen told Lucy how we’d found George Jr. limping home and how I’d tossed the kid over the fence to George Sr. I admitted I still felt conflicted and, when Ken started to ask, Kristen gave him a shushing motion. I appreciated that; I didn’t want to spend the evening retelling my life story. Ken told us of the faraway places he’d been to; I’d expected him to have been in Iraq and Afghanistan, but he’d been in South Korea for a long spell and then began working at the recruiting station in Downtown.
He’d never married, had just a couple years left to retire - which put him a little older than I thought if he was doing the 20-and-out routine. Some of the stories he told made me wonder if I shouldn’t make sure that Spencer wasn’t listening in so, when I could, I sneaked over to the couch. The little man was laying on his side, his head resting on the arm rest. He had his thumb in his mouth and my throw pillow over the bulk of his body. Soft snores could be heard over some show about little mermaid people. I grinned.
I felt slender arms wrap around my chest and Lucy hugged me. After a moment, I hugged her back.
“If only he were so good for me when he’s at home. He didn’t tear one thing up this evening, or have a tantrum. I was worried he’d embarrass me.”
We broke the hug and I grinned.
“He’s a pretty good kid, I just can’t believe he ate one whole slice by himself. That pizza was thick!” I said.
“Hey Brian, I got a favor to ask,” Ken called over, looking shy for a moment.
“Sure?” I asked.
“Do you think I could sight in a rifle out here next weekend?”
“I don’t mind, but why don’t you use the range where Kristen works?” I asked.
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“Well, they won’t let me use something this big,” he admitted sheepishly.
I sat back down at the table. “What do you have that the range won’t let you use?” I asked him curiously, “a .338?”
“Naw, it’s a .50 cal. I got a Barrett finally, it’s what’s in that big hard case in the back of Kristen’s car. Heard it was going to be at the auction and begged my girlfriend to let me tag along.”
“A .50 Cal? Is it loud?” I asked, smiling.
“Sounds like a mortar going off.” he admitted, looking nervous.
“The neighbors,” Kristen reminded Ken, putting her hand on his arm.
“I’ll be working on fencing all this weekend and next weekend. I have to down a couple trees, but other than that, I think it’d be a great plan. We could do a ton of shooting if you don’t mind someone sitting out there watching.” I said, smiling big
“Won’t that make George Landry pissed?” Kristen asked.
“Exactly,” I replied, smiling.
“I can make pizza again!” Lucy said, getting into the spirit of things.
“Oh, so you’re… Got it!” Kristen said, finally smiling and getting what I’d been thinking, “How about I bring out my stuff and I can practice as well?”
“The more the merrier!”
We all agreed on the time. We’d start out Friday after work, and meet up again on Saturday. Ken would help me on Friday, and we’d spot the tree I was going to drop, the willow behind Landry’s, and Saturday we’d shoot the crap out of some stuff.
7
Saturday and Sunday were spent with the Kubota and going back to the store to get the posts. I got the tractor work done during the coolest part of the mornings, then went out to pick up the wooden posts around lunch time. I’d drop those off near the front loader with the forks and then go inside to eat and nap. In the afternoons I set the poles in, leveling them out little by little. I was able to get 800’ of poles set by myself that way, but I was a little discouraged by how slowly it went. I figured out that having to make a ton of trips into town to pick up supplies would be a pain.
Monday, things were still slow at work, so I did some math and figured out what I’d need to finish off the back of the property, then called the farm store. I wasn’t surprised when they said they didn’t deliver, but I was surprised when they said that Mr. Matthews, a neighbor, would for a fee. That almost knocked me over. I knew the old farmer had a ton of big equipment, but I hadn’t realized that he also did this kind of stuff. I put my order in and paid over the phone with the account I’d not touched.
Improving the farm’s fencing and making it safer for everyone would be something that Cathy would have approved of, but I still felt a little bit guilty about touching the account. I got over two dozen of the big rolls of barbed wire, as I didn’t want to run hot wire that far from the house, and almost a whole flatbed worth of wooden poles. I winced when they read me the amount, but I knew I had way more than that.
“Ok, Mr. Cartwright, you are all set.”
“Thanks, will Mr. Matthews be bringing me the receipt to sign?” I asked.
“If you can come in before closing tonight, we can get the order ready for you so it can go out tomorrow or Wednesday.”
“That sounds like a plan.” I said, “Thanks!”
A low whistle caught my attention and I turned to see my boss standing over my right shoulder. On it was my notebook with rough math calculating how much wire and posts I’d need.
“You building a fortress?” Frank asked, looking at the hand drawn perimeter where I figured out things.
The farm didn’t have normal lots. Like anything else, some were irregular or zigzag depending on the trees. There was a big chunk on the south east side that was all woods, but the open fields were what I was planning on fencing off, maybe letting all the animals roam someday, in huge enclosures.
“Naw, a couple weekends back, a kid jumped my fence to go riding his mountain bike. He broke his ankle, so I’m just making sure nobody else tries.” I said.
“Did you talk with your group?” Frank asked, and I felt like a dolt.
“No, not yet.”
I hadn’t even talked to Randy, and had let his one phone call go to voice mail. I had either been talking to Lucy or working on the posts. That night I figured I’d start stringing more wire, but I made a note to call Randy and talk to him about groups and the benefits of them. I knew no man was an island and there was no way to stand alone if something happened, so I added that to the list of things to do that night, in addition to going sign the credit card receipt.
“Ok, I was just wondering… Have you seen what’s going on in Syria right now? The Russian troop buildup?”
“No, actually I haven’t,” I said, straightening up.
“Both Russia and China have warships in the coastal waters. Just makes me nervous. I don’t like to talk about stuff like this here, but it’s got me worried.”
“Sorry, I uh… had a date on Friday and sort of watched cartoons when I wasn’t setting fencing.”
“Cartoons?” Frank Chesil said with a raised eyebrow, “A date?”
“Not the girl I told you about. It was a neighbor. She’s pretty cool, has a 2 year old who loves SpongeBob. Figured I’d watch it for research purposes.”
“Ahhh, one of the guys in our group has twins who love watching SpongeBob,” Frank said. “Hey, is there any way I can talk to you outside of work about this? I’m getting worried, and maybe I can give you some info to talk to your friends about the group?”
“Sure,” I said, “Want to come out to my place?” I asked.
“Sure, how does Thursday sound?”
“Actually, that’s perfect.”
“Good, I’ll be in touch,” Frank said, clapping my shoulder and going back to his office, shutting the door softly.
“That was weird,” I thought to myself, but I was happy to have somebody to talk to about things, other than just Randy.
* * *
I signed the credit card slip and then checked the wanted boards on the way out, and noticed something that never before would have caught my attention. The old trailer park had some old single wide’s they were selling for $400 each. I considered how much time that would save me building a raised ground blind, having something already 4-5 feet off the ground. It didn’t even have to have anything in it, just a shell…. But something that big, I could paint it camo and sit in it, going window to window until I found a target. Lazy hunting, but it would put meat on the table. I pulled a tab off the ad and headed out.
Mr. Matthews showed up on Wednesday as planned, and gave me a weird look when he saw all the new work that was visible across the western field. The new poles still stood out as they hadn’t weathered yet.
“Good fences keep neighbors good,” he grunted.
“Yes sir,” I said with a smile and then asked, “Hey, how hard is it to move a mobile home?”
“You thinking of putting a trailer park up in here?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“No, I was thinking of putting one up the hill about 100 yards from the cornfield.”
He grinned, showing teeth, “A big fancy hunting blind?”
“Yeah, you got me,” I admitted.
“I can do it. Is it one of the ones from the trailer park?”
“Yeah, I uh… Yeah?”
“I just got me one of them for the same thing,” he smiled.
“How much would it cost to move it?” I asked.
“Well, let’s get it here and we’ll talk. You want me to bring it Friday or so?”
“I haven’t even bought it yet.”
“Go to the park Manager, Melinda, and hand her 4 C-notes and tell her I’ll be by shortly to pick it up. I’ll bring you the best of the lot.”
We shook on it, and he got into the cab of his truck and made an expert U-turn in the wide driveway.
I smiled, knowing this was going to be fun. I fished the slip of paper out of my pocket and promise
d to drop off money on my way to work in the morning. Melinda thanked me and told me she had several ready and if I could put in a good word with Mr. Matthews for her she’d appreciate it.
I had to smile at that. Old man Matthews was probably 70 or 100 years old, depending on who you were talking to, but even the ladies at church seemed to line up to talk to the cranky old dog every chance they got. He reminded me of the Sgt. from Platoon myself, but that was just the way he was. Very gruff exterior and one of the best men and friends, a family could ever have.
“I have so much to do this week,” I griped aloud and then got back on the tractor, stretching wire and grabbing the hammer and staples to nail them in place.
“So much to do.”
* * *
Frank whistled when he saw the pile of wire in front of my barn and the half dozen large bundles of poles stacked haphazardly.
“Wow, when you said you had a farm, I thought what you showed me on paper was it. That was big enough but…” his words trailed off as he looked to the east.
“Yeah, I don’t farm all of it, but there’s 240 acres left after my parents sold some off for taxes.”
“Damn those taxes, they get worse every year,” Frank muttered.
“Yeah, and I think it’s going to get worse now that damned subdivision has gone up,” I said hooking my thumb in the direction of the finished fencing.
“Yeah, it’ll probably go up in the next five years or so. Listen I was wondering—“
He broke off speaking as I turned to see who was driving down the driveway. More than once in the past two weeks I’d considered buying a gate and intercom system to slow things down, but I didn’t want to seem un-neighborly. Friends, as well as the Landrys, would drop in unannounced all the time, and usually when I was arm deep in animal manure or working on a big project like the fence. Still, I had to smile when I saw who it was.
“Oh good, Randy is coming,” Frank said.
I turned to him, surprised. “Wait, how do you know Randy?!”
Scorched Earth (Book 1): Good Fences Page 6
