* * *
The spot where the deer vanished was easy enough to find. Jason walked along a well-traveled deer trail as the sun began to rise. Rays of light streaked through the naked trees. Jason's feet crunched the ground beneath them.
Neglect for nature began to creep into the beauty of the forest. As Jason walked, he found litter on the ground. Beer cans, cardboard cases left by other hunters. The plastic rings around soda bottles were scattered around an abandoned hunt site. A bird was wrapped in some plastic and stuck on the ground. Jason set the gun aside and worked to free the bird.
It was a fight. The bird didn't understand Jason as he tried to calm it. It pecked and nipped at Jason's fingers as Jason worked to get the little creature free. Finally, bleeding and sore, Jason freed the bird and it took off for the sky.
“That's what you get for not flying south!” Jason yelled. His cuts were superficial, but they burned when he put his gloves back on.
Jason hiked through the changing forest, seeing more orange Xs as he walked. They didn't seem to care what they cut down anymore. They didn't seem to care to let the land recover. Jason wondered what people thought they would eat when they had turned the world into concrete and casino lights.
He found more concrete as he crested the hill. He had circled around to the development again. It was only noon.
A man with a hard hat and a clipboard walked out to him.
“You're in a safety zone,” the man said. He cocked his head. “You're Oscar Sheridan's grandson, aren't you?”
“You work for a heartless bloodsucker, don't you?” Jason asked in the same tone the man used.
The man smiled. “You're looking at Greenland Acres. Soon, this whole hillside will be row after row of the newest designer homes.”
“They'll all look the same,” Jason said.
“No they won't!” the developer said. He actually looked offended. “The garages will alternate. Right or left.”
Jason smiled. “Why not? I guess a mirror image is still different. How do you suppose the houses will be sold?”
“We're working with a realtor,” the man said, proudly.
“I mean the economy. Most of the factories have been shut down, most young people have moved out of town, and there’s a major national recession going on now. I don't think the national economy will support this monstrosity, let alone the local one.”
“It will when we include the mini-golf course for the kiddies,” the man said.
Jason sighed. “So, where's the golf course going to be? I just see houses.”
“On your grandfather's old land,” the man said.
Jason laughed. “I hope you're patient.”
“Now it's my turn to laugh,” the man said. “It's already been sold. Mr. Green bought it this morning. And, between you and me, your aunts asked way below the going price.”
Jason turned and ran down the road.
“Run all you want!” the man shouted. “It's already been done. Progress cannot be stopped!”
Jason knew the man was telling the truth when he got to his grandfather's house. The aunts and his uncle had brought trucks and the looting had already begun.
Grandpa sat in his chair and stared at the safe when Jason got there.
Jason stared, too. He realized that he hadn't closed it when he opened it before. His uncle was pouring through his grandfather's documents.
“Thieves!” Jason shouted.
“It's okay, Jay,” Grandpa said. “It's been done. Your dad made sure, checked it this morning. It's all legal-ish. It’ll take too much to fight it.”
“In a week, Dad will be properly taken-care-of in a nursing home where he belongs,” Uncle Baldy said. He looked at Foe Hammer.
Jason barely restrained his hand from going to the rifle.
“I'll be dead first,” Grandpa said.
“Frankly, Dad, I don't care,” said Aunt Trouble. “I've been working on this for months, and it finally panned out. Think of the money we got.”
“Green took you,” Jason said. “I just talked to one of his guys. They saw you coming. Your greed made you an easy mark.”
“I wondered where my gun was,” Uncle Baldly said.
“I gave it to him fair and square,” Grandpa said. “If you take it, it’s stealing.”
Uncle Baldy got up and tried to look Jason down. Jason pulled back to throw a punch when Grandpa yelled: “Get out of my house.”
“It’s not your house anymore,” Uncle Baldy said, ignoring Jason’s suspended fist.
“It is until the sale closes,” Dad said from the door. “And that isn’t for another two weeks. So, if you don’t want me to call the police, get out.”
Dad already had his cell phone out.
Still gloating, the two sisters and their brother left.
“How could this happen?” Jason asked his father.
“More devious minds than ours,” Dad said. “It’s over, Jay. They won.”
“Did you see the Monarch?” Grandpa asked.
“No,” Jason said. “I didn’t see him.”
“A week, Jay. They’ll stick me in a home at the end of the week,” Grandpa said. He shook his head. “I don’t want to go.”
Jason didn’t like that look on his old grandfather’s face. Death never looked closer.
The Monarch of the Forest Page 3