by Francis Bate
Stan remembered the woman clearly. She was the one who came knocking on the door yesterday looking for Rhonda. “Oh, yes. Stan Harris. The lasagna was good, by the way. I’ll probably bring the container over after I washed it up.”
“No problem, Stan. You can bring it anytime,” Stephanie said smiling as she glanced at the man she called Neil. “I see you two have met already. So I do not have to make introductions here, do I?”
The two men chuckled. Realizing what that was all about, she quipped and slapped her forehead with her hand.
“I heard you’re Stan Harris,” Neil smirked, extending his right hand waiting for a handshake. “I’m Neil Sena.”
“Oh, boy! You were talking buddy-buddy without knowing each other’s names,” she rolled her eyes at the two men in front of her. Chuckling, Stan, and Neil glanced at each other as if their eyes were communicating and they both cracked up in laughter. “What’s so funny about that?”
“Nothing, Steph,” Neil answered grinning, mirroring Stan’s reaction. Stephanie glared at them, swatting Neil’s arms. “Ouch! What’s that for?”
“That’s for laughing at me!” She hissed, turning her heels back to the door and started walking towards the house. “Breakfast’s ready,” she said in a sweet voice. Pausing on her tracks, she glanced back at Stan. “You can join us for breakfast, Stan.”
“Sure!” Stan responded with a bright smile. “I’d love to.”
“That’s great! See you two inside.” After saying that, Stephanie dropped out of sight like a flash of light. Neil placed his tools back in the toolbox and carefully lifted it in the worktable. After he was finished, he edged to the door and walked inside while Stan was tailgating him.
The house was commodious. Streamlined types of furniture were contemporarily designed with a touch of geometry. Utmost furnishing and an extraneous color palette enriched the view. Neil led them into the dining room. Scanning the room closely, it has an eight-seat dining table. The bright and perfect combination of colors made it more appealing to the sight.
Stephanie came out from the division of the kitchen and dining area holding two bowls on both hands. After placing it on the table, she went back and forth setting up the foods and eating utensils. Every bite palatably relishes from his mouth through his esophagus and to the stomach.
After the breakfast, he helped Neil finish his project. While they were resting on a table under a shaded tree, Stephanie called out for lunch. They talked about random things. It was like living the medieval way, without electricity and technology. The moment seemed to be perfect, good food and good company but there’s only one thing lacking.
“We’re going hunting after lunch, do you wanna come?” Neil asked Stan. Stan was reluctant at first but he agreed after some more time of persuasion. After convincing him, the couple prepared their hunting gears and gave the guest one. Off to the trail they went, locking and leaving the house behind. The three went in a group as Neil led the way. They went in the heart of the forest, searching for a great spot to hunt. Almost two hours has already passed but they saw nothing beneficial. When they saw a deer, Neil pointed the muzzle of his hunting rifle and shot the animal on its leg. It wailed as it collapsed to the ground.
“Bulls-eye!” Neil hollered running to the deer. Bending his knees, he stroked the wailing deer. Following behind, Stephanie and Stan looked at each other. Neil pulled a knife and thrust it into the deer’s heart. He pulled it out and wiped the blood off it with a cloth. “This one’s insanely rich.”
Neil bound the animal’s feet and carried it on his sturdy shoulders. They were headed back to the house. As they passed by the trail, Stephanie saw a plot with edible berries along the way. She brought out a bag and carefully picked the wild berries. Neil dropped the animal from his shoulders to the ground as he waited for her. Delighted, Stan helped Stephanie until they have picked all the berries in that area. Tucking it on her pack, Neil hauled the animal back to his broad shoulders. Upon reaching home, Stan and Neil were left outside to butcher the deer.
That night after dinner, Stan went back to his house to rest.
Stan woke up early the following day. Remembering the container the neighbor lent him, he went to the kitchen to wash it. He hung it up on the rack and went straight to the bathroom. Fresh and refreshed, he grabbed the plate and sauntered to the neighbor’s house knocking. Stephanie opened the door for him. Like the usual, she offered him to join them for a meal. The couple treated him like a family. Stan followed her to the dining room where he found Neil waiting. He greeted him with a genuine smile on his face.
“Are you ready to go fishing today, buddy?” Neil asked focusing his gaze on the table, grabbing a steak and putting it on his plate. The meat was tender and juices ooze in every slice.
Stan put a slice into his mouth and chewed the meat thoroughly before swallowing. “Sure! That’ll be fun. I’m good at fishing if you might ask.” He boasted, smirking at the man. Back in his hometown, he used to go fishing with his family and friends.
“Let’s see, the output serves as better evidence.” Chuckling, Neil nodded his head as if agreeing with him. “But first, show me what you got,” he added, challenging him while tapping his shoulder.
“My pleasure,” he said grinning like a Cheshire cat. The determination in his face was strong. “Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you, though.”
When they were walking to the river, Stan stopped to check on a Swan laying eggs on a grassy area near a tree. It has its nest on it. Along the river, there was a bank particularly customized for fishermen. Fixing their rods, they slumped on the ground. They put the bait and reeled out the rod to the water. In probably about four hours of staying in the river, it was spent bonding and sharing different stories together. They caught ten big fishes and decided to head back home.
“I told ya. I’m better than you.” Stan tapped his new friend’s shoulder and arched a grin in his face. “You believe me now, don’t you?”
“Yeah right, pal. You won this time.” Admitting his proficiency, Neil smirked as he carried his fish tackle and a bucket off the floor. “Just this time cause I won’t allow you to beat me next time,” he muttered and laughed, slapping his pal on the arm.
“Whatever, you can never admit defeat if you really suck at it,” Stan chuckled. They picked up their things and carried it as they home for lunch.
That afternoon, they spent it merely reminiscing their own stories. It was an ordinary day but unlike the other days, that day sealed the beginning of a good-fellowship.
Dinner went well and Stan abruptly ended the night in their place. Remembering the dead bodies in his backyard, he went home and waited until the couple has fallen asleep. When Neil and Stephanie had an afternoon nap, he excavated a hole in the parcel where he planned to bury the dead.
Stan walked to the backyard and scanned the area. He lifted the thin sheets of wood he used to cover the hole and dropped the bodies into it. Quickly before midnight, he overlaid the soil onto the bodies and flattened it out from the uppermost layer.
After doing his work systematically, he washed off and went straight to bed.
“Good morning!” Stan cheerfully greeted his new friends when he went to their house for breakfast. He was countered with a cheery feedback at the same time.
“Looks like someone had a good dream last night,” Stephanie teased as Stan smiled brightly at them.
“I’m going home today!” He announced, cheering like a little kid. “I’m gonna hit the road back again.”
“As much as we want to keep you with us, you really have to go see your family,” she frowned but smiled when she realized the reason behind his eagerness to go home. “I’ll pack you some food and water before you go,” she assured and Stan thanked her with a smile.
After breakfast, Stephanie did what she had promised. Packing some cooked and uncooked meat, fish and veggies, she also added some bottled water. Stan thanked them for their hospitality saying good people are difficult to enc
ounter especially in trouble. Two days was lost but at least good friendship was found. He then went back to the road thinking about tomorrow.
Chapter Three: Unhappy Couple
Back to the track, Stan Harris traversed along 19 which still seemed to be a rural area. While walking, he felt odd and suddenly realized his walking stick was missing. He left it at Rhonda’s house. Fully decided not to get it back, he continued walking even without it. While walking, he passed by the board sign where two people were seated at.
“Hey!” A man called out. He has gray hair slightly covering his craggy face. His short-sleeved polo revealed his belly; his dark pants and brogue shoes complemented his fierce appearance. “My wife and I haven’t eaten for days,” he started as Stan paid attention with empathy in his eyes. “Would you mind if you spare us some food?” The man asked and stared at him.
Stan instantly stopped ransacking his pack and pulled some food out of it. “Here,” he handed them two packs of bottled water and food. “It seemed like you were also on the road the whole time. Where’re you from?”
The couple thanked him for the food. Before they could answer, they gobbled up the food. “Bashing Rishe,” the old man answered with his mouth full. Munching and chewing it briskly, his wife spoke up for him.
“He meant Basking Ridge,” the woman responded. Her face looked weather-beaten as her auburn hair cascaded freely onto her shoulders. She looked pale and weak but the hope in her eyes was reassuring.
“How’s Basking Ridge now? Does it looked like uninhabited?” He asked watching them consume all the food he brought out.
“It’s bad,” he said. Scooping and chewing his food bit by bit, he belched and continued eating. “It was pretty bad.”
“What do you mean?” His curiosity swallowed him whole. The severity of the dowry has affected many lives.
“Atrocious! The food and water supplies have ebbed,” the woman said after slugging the bottle of water onto his throat. It quenched their thirst and filled their gut for a day. “People became ferocious and everyone was clueless of what was happening.”
Stan stared into space and he has nothing left to say but he felt perturbed. He brought two more sets of supplies offering it to the couple for their long journey. He left after they thanked him. The distance of the road became remote to him. He walked silently until he arrived in an obscure town which he can’t fully charter.
The town was desolated. But across the town, Stan came across a mini bar. A lady in a crop top was sitting on a bench as if waiting for someone to arrive. Her hair was in a small bun revealing her small and delicate face. Urgently stirring off her seat, the young lady called out to Stan when he passed by her.
“Are you in that direction?” He heard the young lady speak. Glancing at her, he nodded but kept walking straight away from her. “Hey! Don’t be rude leaving a person behind while she’s still talking to you.”
The lady ran to his direction following him from behind and tried to pull his arm. “What do you want?” Stan asked throwing daggers at her.
“I’m coming with you,” she said crossing her arms. Without waiting for his answer, she was already tagging along with him.
“No, you’re not coming with me!” Stan wasn’t convinced as to why she would be letting a lady tag with him.
“I am!” She insisted. Not bothering what he said, she checked him out closely as they walk. “How long were you on this journey?” She added.
Computing the days in his mind, there was ambiguousness glooming over his calculation. “I’ve been on the road for more than six days already. And no! You’re still not coming with me. Why would I allow a teenager to come with me? Why are you even out here in the first place?”
“Wow! You’re tough,” Patricia gushed and rolled her eyes. “For your information, I ain’t a teen. I am twenty-two. I got lost and I need to go home because my family might been worried. So, it’s fully decided, I’m coming. You can’t do anything about it,” she excitedly exclaimed.
“Oh well, that seems like it,” he shrugged and slumped his shoulders. “Where are you off to?”
“I’ll be with you until I reach Gainesville,” Stan scoffed staring at the lady with his eyes wide open. “Yes, that long, huh. Anyway, my name is Patricia Silva. What’s your name?”
“I didn’t ask,” he responded in a rough voice, brushing her off.
“Whatever. I was just saying,” Patricia rolled her eyes and shut him off. “So, tell me what your name is,” She repeated glancing at him as they walked across the town.
“Stan,” he answered with a plain voice. Stan kept walking without side glancing. In his mind, he was debating whether taking her with him is an advantage or a drawback. Floating into deep consideration, he tried to balance the scale he was weighing on.
“Stan what?” Patricia asked receiving no answer from him. She tagged the hemline of his shirt, snapping her finger onto his face. There was no response. A mischievous smile rolled from her lips bringing out a lighter from her pocket together with a small paper cylinder. She lighted the firecracker and dropped it into the ground covering her ears and watched it as it exploded. She cracked up as the loud bang jolted Stan.
“What the hell was that about?” The tone of his voice rose as blood rushed through his face. He furrowed his brows and glared at her. Patricia dried her eyes with her sleeve and chuckled still clutching her stomach.
“You were spacing out so I had to help,” the young lady teased. “You haven’t heard my question, have you?”
“Do not do that again, young lady!” Holding an authoritative voice, he crossed his hands onto his chest and furrowed his brows at her. “Do you understand me?” He asked stooping down at her.
Patricia nodded her head and looked down to her feet. “Sorry,” she whispered biting her lower lip.
“If you are coming with me, learn to follow my orders,” he started, reprimanding her like a daughter. They were standing under the heat of the sun. Cars were in the driveway but the houses were locked. Aside from the birds chirping from a tree, the whole place was eerily silent. “Are we clear, Patricia?”
“Yes,” she muttered, tilting his head up and meeting his gaze. “But… Uhm… Can I ask some questions?” she added twiddling her fingers.
“Only a few,” he said, turning back to their direction and started walking again. Patricia trailed alongside him.
“Aight got that. So you haven’t told me your surname yet,” she glanced back at him. His eyes were deep as the sun streamed down his face.
“Harris. Stan Harris.” Stan uncapped the small opening of the water bladder and took a sip from it. Patricia observed him, taking a step back examining his bags and stepped onto his other side.
“Are you going on camping?” She asked kicking some pebbles off the ground and it flew in the air.
“No,” he deadpanned and glared at her.
“Why do you have to carry two bags with you?” The young lady asked raising her left eyebrow at him.
Stan looked at her and studied her for a moment. Shrugging off, Patricia angled both of her hands and placed it on her waist.
“Are you serious?” Stan asked. “For the record, these are for my survival. Why don’t you have anything on hand?”
“I dunno. I actually don’t know what to take. As I mentioned earlier, I got lost. I was driving my car along the road when it halted and my phone wasn’t working, I can’t access a map. Now, I don’t know how to go to Gainesville,” she straightened her face.
“Getting to the battleground unarmed and unprepared is totally exposing you to danger,” he started, sparing a slight glance over his shoulder.
“I didn’t know this will happen,” she said pursing her lips.
“Prepping for something requires no demand. It’s a key to survival. You don’t have to know the problem before you plan a solution if you could actually plan it out first before you watch yourself in peril.” Patricia was all ears out as they pass through some houses. “Did
n’t you bring any clothes or food with you?”
“I’ve actually eaten all my food, I’ve arrived here on the third day and there were no people around. I found the bar, snuck inside and it seemed like it was also broke in. It has few supplies left.”
“I’ve heard about it. People have become hopeless, or something not domesticated. I’ve met few people on the road, though.” Stan went to a bench under a tree along the road. He put his things down and rummaged through it bringing a bottle of water and some food to sight. “I guess you haven’t had a food in your stomach yet. Take it and eat,” he ordered.
Patricia took his offer and sat on the bench. While she was eating, Stan snooped around the area. There was a lone tree in between two houses with a small wooden gate behind. He turned his sight to another house where a car toy was left on a house balcony. It also has a small doll house at the far end of the door. Several toys scattered on the floor. Stan wasn’t paying attention when Patricia poked him on the arm.
“You always drift into nothingness.” He heard her say, poking him in the arm really hard. “Miss your family?”
“Yeah,” Stan edged back to the road after hauling back his bags. That made Patricia bombarded him with multiple questions.
“What happened? Where are they? Are they still alive? Is that why you are ardent to go home? Did they leave you? Were they killed?” Stan balled his fists and gritted his teeth. He didn’t turn his head on her as he was counting slowly on his head. “Oops. That came out unexpected, sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
Patricia covered her mouth with her hands as she heard him sigh. It was heavy and deep. His face was neutral but his voice was sappy. “No more questions,” he said stamping his foot, leaving her behind. Patricia followed suit, wrinkling her eyes and brushing it off again.
They walked in silence. Although awkward, Patricia tried to reach out to him. She blabbed along the way even if he wouldn’t listen. After a couple of hours, they stopped at a roadblock at Main Street and Highway 19. Scanning the area, Stan saw a burly cop sitting at the corner of his post. The sound of stomps snapped the cop from his trance. He glanced up, pulling up himself and was dazzled to see the people approaching him.