Opus Odyssey_A Survival and Preparedness Story

by Boyd Craven III

“You don’t have a dog,” I called to him.

  “He does now,” Annette said.

  Opus stopped dancing and stilled long enough to lay his head on the old man’s shoulder.

  “What a faker. He’s going to get a Grammy for that performance,” I whispered.

  Opus dropped down on all to fours and sneezed in my general direction. I mentally sent him the thought, I know where you sleep, and he sat down, giving me a doggy grin.

  “Look at you!” Tina said. “Are you okay?” She fussed at Sarge as I walked over and shook his hand. I gave Annette a firm hug.

  “Better than I ever have been. Well, for a long, long time now,” Sarge answered.

  “He’s still sore from surgery, but he’s doing good,” Annette said.

  “What surgery?” I asked in surprise.

  “Grab a chair if you two have a chance to sit. I might be in better shape,” he said, “but I still get out of breath.”

  We walked to the small four-seat patio table and made ourselves comfortable.

  “I didn’t know you had surgery. When was this?” I asked him.

  “Oh, about six and a half weeks ago. Went down to the Cleveland Clinic. Got a ton of my plumbing fixed. I mean the heart doc, not that the other plumbing has any problems…”

  Annette snickered, and he shot her a glare that would fry an egg.

  “I… I’m glad you’re doing well,” Tina said, “We just didn’t know you had surgery.”

  “And you got skinny,” I finished the thought she’d left unsaid.

  “I wasn’t fat to start with,” Sarge insisted. “I was just a little rounded from being stuck so long and…”

  Annette patted my hand. “Bud got a tingling in his hands again. I was worried he was going to have another heart attack, so we got him checked out. We didn’t like what the doc had to say so we called his cardiologist, Dr. Brett, and he suggested the Cleveland Clinic.”

  “I thought you couldn’t go under with your COPD?” I asked.

  “Yeah, me too, but there are new techniques. If I had to have the VA pay for it all, I might have died waiting. As it is, it was worth every penny.”

  “Did they do the tummy tuck too?” I asked him, innocently.

  “You little knob-gobbling, Johnson-yanking, pearl-clutching, no load—”

  Annette interrupted. “No, but the strict diet they gave him has been followed since the sandwich incident.”

  “I got my eye on you, boy,” Sarge said pointing.

  I grinned back at him. “It’s good to see you.”

  “Yeah, I missed your ugly face too. Even the demon dog. Only one on this property that knows what it’s like going into a gunfight and walking out victorious.”

  Opus chuffed and laid his head against Sarge’s leg, but he was watching Annette and then his mom.

  “What about me?” Tina asked, noting that he forgot to mention her.

  “Well, if I was about sixty years younger and hadn’t already been hitched—”

  “He missed you, but I sure as shit ain’t gonna miss him,” Annette said and poked two fingers into her glass of iced tea and flicked the droplets in Sarge’s face.

  “You would too,” Sarge said, and the same old argument started up.

  We listened and egged them on for a good ten minutes before finally waving our goodbyes and promises to see them at the diner in the morning. I’d get my jog in, have my writing done and be ready to roll long before the 9am breakfast time. As we rolled down our driveway, Tina turned to me.

  “I want to grow old together like that,” she said suddenly, and then turned slightly red.

  “I do too, just less bickering,” I agreed.

  “That’s not bickering, that’s just… them clearing the air.”

  “With threats of dismemberment?” I asked, remembering the Lorena Bobbitt reference.

  “Yeah, maybe we won’t go that far.” She grinned as we pulled in to see the motorhome just where I’d left it.

  We’d come back up here as soon as we could, but it had been a while. I opened my door and was almost knocked over as Opus went charging and barking at the large oak tree down by the creek, chasing something fuzzy and red up into the tall branches.

  “If he could climb trees, those little red ninjas would be in trouble,” I said absentmindedly.

  “He can climb, I just don’t encourage it,” Tina said.

  I looked at her, and she shrugged, and then pointed at the front door of the RV. I dug out the key and unlocked it.

  Upon entering, the small space smelled a bit like hot dust, so I set about opening some windows, while Tina opened the ceiling vents. When that was done, I did a basic rodent check and saw no evidence, so I went outside and turned on the propane and plugged in the electrical. Before we’d gone home, I’d had a truck come out to pump out the black and gray water tanks, and we’d winterized it. I’d never done it before, but we’d never really planned on camping in the middle of winter. I lit the pilot light on the water heater and checked to see if the condenser to the fridge was running from the outside hatches before heading back inside.

  “Maybe we should clean out the filters on the air conditioners,” Tina told me when I walked in. “I bet you that’s where the musty smell is coming from.”

  “I can do that,” I told her and then watched as Opus streaked by the front of the motorhome, chasing fast after something.

  “He’s gonna catch something someday. Then what are you going to do?” I asked Tina, pulling her over to the couch and sitting down.

  “Well, I’m not going to pull it out of his mouth when he’s eating it,” she said. “Good way to lose a hand.”

  “True,” I agreed.

  We sat like that for a while, the fan running from the AC unit, the door wide open, and watched Opus run and have fun. Other than the prank on Al, he hadn’t been too puppy-like lately, but now, back here in nature, I could see his serious demeanor he usually wore like protective armor slipping away as he ran like a greyhound, on the heels of a gray blur. He went over into a tumble, and when he came up, he had a small rabbit. I almost shouted for him to stop, but it was over before I even registered it had started. He shook his head and in three gulps…

  “Well, you hungry?” Tina asked me suddenly, hopping off my lap.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  We grilled steaks on a metal grate over the campfire and had a couple of beers each. Tipsy, we both headed inside, where Opus was put out that I locked him out of the back bedroom. The door wouldn’t stay closed all night, but there was something in the air.

  I put on All Dogs Go To Heaven on the TV in front, and held my finger up to my lips. “Shhh…” I told him, and shut the bedroom door.

  I had every intention of being productive, but I slept until I felt Tina stirring and then heard her alarm going off. Suddenly, we both tried to roll off the bed at once and got tangled, arms and legs locked together in the sleeping bag. I hit the floor hard with Tina falling on top of me.

  Opus gave out a loud woof sound from the other room, and Tina was the first one free and she pushed the sliding door open. He rushed her, sniffing her, getting on his back feet and then rushed past her to check me out. I was getting untangled from the sleeping bag when his cold nose got me under my ear. I instinctively clenched my head toward my shoulders, and he gave the side of my face a lick, and then rushed out.

  I got to my feet and walked to the door while Tina rushed to get decent. I wasn’t worried, Annette wouldn’t be back here, and I wouldn’t be able to make the same mistake I did last year by the river from where I was at now. I opened the RV door, and Opus took off like a shot. He made it past the gravel pad before doing his business, but his head was up, and he was sniffing the air.

  “You overslept,” Tina said from behind me somewhere.

  “Quite a bit,” I admitted.

  “Well, hopefully, you’re not too exhausted. We have breakfast to go to.”

  “How much time do we have?” I asked her.

>   “An hour to get ready.”

  “So, we only need ten minutes for a shower and getting dressed…”

  “Better not play with the dog too long.”

  I laughed softly and whistled for Opus who was chasing something down toward the water. I heard him change direction and left the door open and went inside. We hadn’t unpacked last night, just spent some time together, so today I was actually cramping, I was so hungry. I was set on ignoring that for as long as I could when I came back in and saw that Tina was sitting on the couch, a look of concern on her face.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Message from Char.”

  Char was the lady who was running the mini storage for Tina while we were gone, as a trial run for a longer trip.

  “She said somebody was prowling around last night and kept tripping the motion sensors. Didn’t get inside the gate, but they set the light off by the office side and the parking lot side. Wants to know if she should call the detective and give him the security footage.”

  “Well, yeah,” I said, but she was already thumbing a message back.

  Words tumbled out of Tina’s mouth worriedly. “Going to. I don’t know Det. Stephenson's number, but she should be able to get to him. I don’t even remember what that guy looks like. It could totally be random, or it could be—”

  “Calm down,” I said, and sat down next to her just as Opus came bounding inside, and then decided he was a lapdog and sprawled out across both of our laps.

  Tina got up and paced the camper.

  “Hey bud, your mom is starting to get scared. I need you to take her for a walk and calm her down,” I told Opus.

  He cocked his head at me, and I sighed. “Not that kind of walk; stick with her, she’s a ball of nervous energy. Till she hears back from her girlfriend, we won’t be able to get any bacon.”

  “That isn’t going to hold us up,” she said and headed outside determinedly.

  She knew how to use the outdoor facilities I’d built last year. It had worked better than we’d hoped, and that was one thing I’d double-checked before the moon came out: I had brushed off the seat for her and I’d also put a new roll of TP in there.

  I hurried to the back to get clean clothing. “Cold shower for me, I guess,” I muttered, knowing the solar shower hadn’t had time to absorb the heat.

  We were finished with breakfast at the diner when Char texted Tina back and said she’d got ahold of the detective. She’d emailed him the pictures, and he’d let her know that it wasn’t the man who’d tried to rob us before.

  Tina almost sagged in relief. It was still troubling, and the police would be coming out to take a complaint and get the paperwork started, but it was Stephenson who had really sealed the deal. Neither I nor Tina could recognize the guy either, but it was good in a way. Not that having some random dude walk the fence line of the business and our home was comforting, but it wasn’t as terrifying as thinking you might have a set of crosshairs on your back.

  “Well, now you don’t have to worry,” Sarge said, looking at my leftover biscuits and gravy, with an extra ration of bacon for the furball, who was now laying at his feet with a longing look in his eyes.

  Of course, Opus tried to valiantly stay awake, but the one order of bacon he’d tried to wolf down, along with his mom’s toast, on top of his morning kibble and another wild rabbit, nearly did him in. And he was going to be impossible to sleep in the same RV with, later on.

  “I guess I’m not all that worried,” Tina said. “I thought I was, but…” she looked at Sarge’s half-finished fruit bowl and grinned. “It’s not as scary as having to give up biscuits and gravy, with bacon on the side.”

  Sarge cussed, and Annette turned her head to the side as the waitress came up and passed me the bill. I noticed all three ladies were grinning from ear to ear, and I mouthed ‘why’ to Tina. She mouthed back, ‘because I can,’ knowing she was winding Sarge up on purpose.

  “Thank you,” I told our waitress, my card already palmed.

  She gave me a wink. “Listen, Hun,” she said to Tina, “Your pup there is famous around these parts. Folks would love to have him visit more.”

  “I… I was surprised you asked us to bring him in.”

  “Well, he’s obviously a service dog. Well, a police dog, but you’re not in the military or police no more. So…”

  “I’m…” Tina stammered.

  “Thank you,” Sarge answered for her. “People around these parts need to keep our veterans close to their hearts,” he said and dropped a wink at Tina, who had suddenly turned red.

  “I didn’t—”

  “Your pup is a perfect gentleman, and the boss and I are honored to have him here. He eats for free.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” I told her, noticing she’d deducted one of the orders of bacon.

  I knew I shouldn’t have let her keep that false notion, but the waitress was sort of right. Tina wasn’t a cop, and she’d never served, but her dog was a cop and a soldier in his own rights. He was also a hell of an example of what pure love and courage should be, and it humbled me to see others recognize what I thought I had only noticed. Actually, I kinda felt dumb.

  “She’s never served,” I finally admitted as Tina squirmed. “But you’re right. Opus here was bred and trained to be a service dog, could have been a police dog, but he’s got the most important job in the world. Keeping my girl safe. Maybe someday we can get him a lady friend to carry on the genes.”

  I don’t know whose eyebrows rose more at my words, Tina’s or Opus’s. He even did the ear thing where he used them like directional beacons to hone in on my words. Here I thought he was still asleep a few seconds ago.

  Shows what I know.

  “That’s what I was trying to say,” Tina said finally.

  “I thought she was talking about me,” Sarge said.

  “You think everything’s about you…”

  I smiled and walked with the waitress to the register as I heard Tina chuckle. Sarge and Annette were going at it again.

  “It means a lot to us. The last time we left fur-face alone up here, things didn’t go so well,” I told the waitress.

  “I heard about that. Scary and tragic. I didn’t know there was drug stuff happening up here, you know, other than the wacky tabaccy.”

  I grinned and shrugged. I avoided drugs and drug culture other than some old Cheech and Chong movies, so I was sort of surprised by what had happened last year as well.

  “Yeah, but he’s Tina’s rock. He’s been her protector for so long now that we try not to go anywhere without him,” I told her, taking the pen and the receipt for me to sign. I pocketed my card again.

  “Now it sounds like it’s your job. Are you two going to move up here full time?”

  “No ma’am, at least, we haven’t planned it that way. I still have to ask her father for her hand, to make it official.”

  The waitress raised her eyebrows. “What are you waiting for?”

  I hooked a thumb over my shoulder at the three humans and one canine who was causing a small ruckus, “Mostly them. Had to see how they were doing before we go on a road-trip. Arizona. Hopefully, it won’t be too hot.”

  “Arizona in the summer? Wow. It’s got to be near 120 degrees in the shade.”

  “Yeah. Hmm…. Guess I need to make sure my air is working then,” I told her with a grin.

  “Well, if you want some more coffee before ya head out, let me know.”

  I followed her gaze and saw Tina smiling and talking animatedly on the phone. She was one of those expressive talkers, and she was waving her free hand around as she spoke, like the person on the other end could see it.

  I grinned at the sight, and Opus’s attention was pointed up at Tina now, even though I saw Annette’s hand under the table with a slice of pilfered bacon up as a bribe. He caught the scent, barely broke eye contact with Tina and gently took it, then resumed looking up.

  “Thanks, I will,” I told her and then walk
ed back and sat down.

  “…I know, Daddy. Uh huh. The 24th? Oh… That’s fine.”

  I’d learned when Tina said ‘that’s fine’, it means, I’m very disappointed, and I will not pout, as that’s beneath my dignity.

  She continued. “Oh no. I think there’s this thing in Utah he wanted to go to, so we’ll make a side trip out that way first then come down. Uh huh… Mom too? That’s great! Yes, he’s a good boy, his shoulder doesn’t bug him much. Oh really? Yes, Daddy. Okay. Love you too. Bye.”

  I listened and wondered what thing in Utah she was talking about and then it hit me. I hadn’t really pressed her on it, but I’d showed her the email and flyer I’d gotten from Preppercon. It was reportedly one of the largest prepping shows in North America, and it was in Utah. Salt Lake City, if I wasn’t misunderstanding things.

  “Oh, Daddy!” Sarge said in a falsetto voice, and Annette snickered.

  “I’m still his little girl, so he’ll be Daddy to me,” Tina told him, and the pout she had repressed earlier came back out.

  Sarge looked ashamed for a second and then Tina’s pout changed, and she pointed at him, “Gotcha,” she said, and cracked up again.

  “What was that?” I asked her, curiously.

  “Well, I know you were wanting to get on the road, but I guess my parents were invited on a cruise and want to push back the timing on us coming down. Mom’s going to be gone for like five or six days, but Daddy is golfing with his buddies on some kind of trip.”

  “Push back our timing? We didn’t have any firm plan—”

  Somebody kicked me under the table, and I immediately grabbed my shin and saw the retreating foot. I was expecting Sarge’s boot, but it was Annette’s. I looked up at her, and she dropped me a wink.

  Tina’s brow scrunched up in concern. “I thought…”

  “I’m kidding,” I told her, figuring out that something had gone on and I had missed the memo somewhere. “I said after here, I just hadn’t realized you were already moving the ball down the field.”

  “A football metaphor?” Sarge asked. “Boy, you’re about as sharp as a rusty spoon.”

  “I’m just—” I looked around, confused.