by Jeff Beeman
One brick house with a ragged and faded high school flag in the colors of red and black looks good. This time I unhook B.B. from the wagon. He immediately goes over to the tree in the front yard to do his number one business on it, B.B. will be B.B. As he roams the yard to do more “personal business”, I put Bouncy Bouncy back into his travelling chair and get my flashlight ready. As I head over to the door, B.B. joins me. I watch him real carefully but he is just his usual self. I go by the front windows to tap on the window glass and then the door to see if there are any sounds of moaners inside. After reaching twenty monkeys, I try the door which I find is unlocked. As I open the door B.B. goes right in so I guess the house is safe.
As quickly as I can, I pull back drapes to add more light and keep the front door open. The house looks nice and seems to have been involved with the local high school. In the living room are different trophies for sports and other events. From the photos, the house was once a home to a father, mother, and four teenagers, all boys, of various ages. I don’t smell any death so I shouldn’t find their bodies, which is a good thing.
Besides being a Girl Scout, I was also on a Mid-Cities Intercity Basketball team. I am tall for my age so my position was power forward. I liked playing and being on a team but some of the girls weren’t too friendly. Momma and Daddy said that this should teach me that not everyone would be nice no matter how hard you tried to help or how friendly you acted but that I should still try for the sake of the team. Just another sign of the living not playing by the rules.
B.B. is roaming all over the place with his nose to the carpet. He seems really interested but not growling so I let him have his doggie fun as I work my way to the kitchen. Once there I see that there is a back door with a doggie door. Now I hope B.B. is not going to find the body of the dead pet like what I found at the apartment I broke into when I first met B.B. The kitchen looks like someone left in a hurry as there is stuff on the floor. There are leaves in here also so the doggie door must not be secured. I go to the pantry which is open. There is stuff all over the floor. It doesn’t take long to see that big rats have worked this part of the house with the ripped open boxes and packages of old food. Also containers are open. Guess the people must have got what they could then left the lids off and that is what helped bring in the rats. Back in the kitchen proper, I pass the refrigerator which I know holds nothing useful. B.B. is now in here also moving all over the place with his nose to the floor and sniffing like a Choo Choo train. Boy, dogs and their weird ways to have fun. Not seeing anything salvageable on the counters or table, I open one of the upper cabinet’s doors and am greeted by giant eyes surrounded by black staring right into mine. Abruptly other doors of the upper and lower cabinets explode open and an army of four legged, gray hair, bushy tailed monsters make their way to the doggie door. It was so sudden that B.B. only had time to yip in surprise, while I was jumped on by the body that the giant eyes belonged to and then the furry monster joined its fellows as they began to fight each other to see who was next to go out the doggie door. I of course chose to let them have the back entrance as B.B. and I ran to the front in what I would later describe as a controlled exit of the situation, but others would most likely say we ran in a blind panic. I will let history decide because at the moment, this day isn’t going well at all but then it isn’t over yet.
Chapter Eight
Game Changer
Now that we are able to reorganize in the front yard, B.B. is ready to lead a counter attack on the fuzzy brigands. I personally think that we should leave the house to them since they have first claim on it. Peace through diplomacy is the best course I think and Bouncy Bouncy agrees but B.B. seems more the “Command and Conqueror” sort. The only way I can keep B.B. from going to the backyard to face off that army of furry thugs is to give him half of one of our meals. I give it to him though only in parts because he would scarf his part down and be heading back there. I do however have to feed him with one hand, as I use my shoulder to keep him from getting the part I am eating on. Needless to say I am being pushed around in circles so after a few bites, I give him the rest.
Sitting on the curb in front of the brick house with the faded high school flag, I watch B.B. try to lick up the road where I had placed his part of the meal. With his mind distracted from any type of turf war with that group of critters, I try to think about how to make this “supply run” better because so far it has not been so good. Maybe I should study my surroundings and become inspired. Never hurts to try something new.
Other than tall dead grass, a small tree growing out of the side of a street curb, general deserted neighborhood overall look and grass that is waiting for spring so it can continue growing in the street cracks, no new idea or course of action comes to mind. Looking back at our last attempt at scavenging, the faded flag wavers a little thanks to a light breeze. Thinking about it, the high school flag could be a “sign of fate” like in some of my cartoons where the hero or heroine, in this case, would see or be told something that put them on the road towards their adventure. Sometimes one just doesn’t have a wizard that smokes or a wardrobe to walk into, so you have to use what fate points at. From what Daddy had told me, the high school was a staging point for supplies and information for the area, so there could still be food and other useful stuff. Those affected by The Bad back then wouldn’t have been allowed to stay around the area but instead would have been sent other places that could treat them after the hospitals were too full. Those were really hard times and for a moment, I almost slip backwards into a pit of sadness. Daddy and I both agreed that when we became really sad or as he called it depressed, it’s like imagining we’re slowly slipping backwards into a sandy ant-lion pit. You keep slipping backwards even if you try to climb out of it, until the sadness has you wrapped up. I realize I was slipping into a sad pit only after B.B. knocks me down onto the grass and licks my face till I nearly drown in his spit. Time to show him who’s the boss, so Bouncy Bouncy and I begin to wrestle with him. The best we can do is get dragged around the yard, which leaves a nice trail. B.B. just happily trots all over the place until he decides to use me as a pillow. That is till I start giggling so hard he gives up.
Well, before we head towards the high school which is a long walk from where we are, I want to try one more house, but again I want to get away from another source of problems, the pesky bushy tail mob. So I get B.B. set up again and we head back the way we came on Brookside, then head west on Meadowside. We go a short distance and then take Arthurs Circle once it meets Meadowside.
Heading down Arthurs Circle, we come to a house on the right with a flag pole. Maybe the high school flag isn’t the sign but the flagpole. Fate is a hard thing to read most of the time and today was no exception.
We head towards the door on the lawn since the walk to the house’s front door are steps and the wagon would make all kinds of noise. I can see that the big front windows are boarded up from the inside. There used to be a glass door, but the glass is shattered and the door the glass belongs to is twisted so much it won’t even come close to closing. The boarded front door is battered and has cuts in it. There are also the sharp ends of nails pointed out of it. I have seen this before. It means people made their home a real life castle. Sometime after The Bad had arrived and was making everything the way it is now, people during that time tried to convert their homes or other places into “castles”. I don’t mean a castle like in King Arthur’s day, with moats and towers, well at least not around here. What I mean is that people would seal their doors and windows, make their fence stronger and not easy to get past, or like what happen to the people in the grocery store, they put whatever they could to keep other and/or the un-people from getting in.
Little did they realize that that even blocked off from the world, The Bad was in there with them a lot of the time. Sometimes they just died the good death or someone would become a moaner and make everyone else un-persons. Then there would be people who let The Bad make them do bad things t
o the others with them. If I can get into the castle house, I hope it is the first thing and not another Dan waiting for someone.
I try a few tricks but there will be no getting in from the front. Good sign is that my actions don’t seem to bring any moaning from inside or out where we are. We move around the house by going down the driveway that leads to the backyard. The side of the house looks similar to the front with windows boarded from the inside and damage on the outside by what looks like the living. The backyard has been changed into what looks like a parking area instead of having grass and trees. I can see an old camp site that hasn’t been used in a long while. There are also two vehicles that have been stripped of stuff. One looks like it was once a white truck and the other a red two door car. The red car has a license plate cover that has rhinestone butterflies. I move back and forth to see how the butterflies change color. It’s really pretty and would make a nice sunlight catcher at base. It will take an X type of screwdriver which I don’t have. Rates on the bad luck. I will have to keep my eyes open for one. Part of the fence that is between this and another yard is partially down. Maybe the next house will be better. I unhook B.B. from the wagon, then move the wagon to the looted garage of the boarded up house behind the truck so no one will see it from the street. You never know when the people who tried to break in the castle house might come back.
B.B. and I go through the open area of the fence, which leads to an area with what was once a pool but is now a big, deep green sludge water pond. Though I know my life straw could help me get drinkable water from that mess, I am so happy to have enough water not to need to go to that yucky source. The search ends pretty much before it begins because I can see that the backdoor is broken down. Hoping that something might have been missed, we first check to see if any un-people are in the house. No signs, so we go in. The house is wrecked with furniture torn open and broken. Nothing useful is left. My stomach growls as I stand in the mess. Oh well, have to keep looking.
As we go back out the backdoor, B.B.’s little ears perk up. For a moment he stands still and turns his head to the right like he does when I do something he can’t figure out. Suddenly, he bolts through the hole in the fence. I stand there for a moment confused with my head turned to the right because he has never done this before. Once I snap out of it, I head after him but all I can seem to manage is a trot and even that seems to be tiring me out. As I am about to round the corner of the boarded up castle to head towards the front yard, I hear something I have not heard since Daddy left. It is a vehicle and people talking!
Slowly peeping around the corner, I see two men have gotten out of a pickup truck. They have faded camouflage jackets and pants. They also have rifles slung on their shoulders. They are petting and talking to B.B. who dumbly just wags his short thick tail. What are the living doing here? Are they the ones who made the camp in back? If so, why would they have come back? If they are different, then what brings them here? I thought all the living who could leave had moved on during the smoky days. One of them picks up B.B. and puts him in the driver part of the truck and shuts the door. B.B. begins to bark and paw at the window while the men talk and point at the homes.
Together, they begin to head this way. Without thinking, I back away then run to hide. I find a place just big enough that will allow me to get under the house so I can hide and wait for them to get far enough away, so that I can rescue that silly B.B.
Just being under that house is not enough, so I begin trying to slow my breathing like Daddy taught me. First I close my eyes and focus on what I smell. I smell the dampness of the underpart of the house. I can smell the dirt, myself, B.B.’s scent on me, the dead grass and off in the distance the smell of the pool. What can I feel? I feel my clothes against my skin, the mostly soft soil that is over hard ground, my right hand going to bring Bouncy Bouncy up to my chest, my utility belt around my waist, my backpack, the coolness of the air under the house and my stomach twisting. I start feeling myself calm down and I think I have my breathing under control so it won’t give me away.
I slowly open my eyes and see one of the men’s legs in the tall dead grass. They move like a dance with their rifles now in their arms and pointed down as they look over the backyard. They both have what looks like a black cat on a yellow background patch. Also there is a patch that looks like an acorn with a capital T in the middle of it. If I can see them from where I am at, then they can see us, so Bouncy Bouncy and I slowly move back under the house hoping not to be seen. I move back till all I can still see is their movement in the tall grass. I hear a beep sound then coming from their direction.
“Recon to command.... Recon to command, over”
“Command, over”
(That person sort of sounds like a woman, I think to myself)
“Found signs of possible survivor or survivors, over”
“Are the long pigs showing signs of being on the right or left side? Over”
“So far up the middle, over”
“That situation is a Dear John scenario, Recon. Back to your cannibal run, Command out”
“Oh no!” I think to myself, “They are a bunch of Dans with B.B. and me on the menu.”
“Well isn’t that a blue falcon way of handling this!” responded one of the men with a slight accent.
“Your GOFO is a glowing beacon for the rest of us, Oliver.” Sarcastically responded the other man with had been talking the woman on the radio. “No one said we have to be quick about it. Just as long as we find what we need and can get back to the rest before sundown.”
“All right then”, responded Oliver, the man with the accent, “Let’s see if we can find any more signs of recent life”.
Because of my moving farther under the house, I can no longer see their movement in the grass. I have to get B.B. free and both of us out of here before they drive away. The wagon can stay hidden and we can come back for it later. All I need is time to run to the truck, get B.B. and then we can go hide among the houses. The sun is not even halfway up yet, so we have enough time to hide, then get the wagon, and then find some more food. Even if we have to wait out the day, we have plenty of water and another day’s food. I just have to let them go somewhere else or find another way out from under the house.
Not wanting to take the risk they will leave before I can even act, I slowly worm my way around in a semi-circle to see if there is another way out. There are two that I see from where I am at. The first is past a bunch of pipes and spider webs. The other is at the far side of the castle. The farthest option is the one closest to the street but will take the longest and I will have to deal with bushes or maybe even a cement bench I thought I saw. I decide to go with the closer exit which will put me somewhere next to the driveway and a straight shot to the truck that B.B. is held in.
I have to wiggle the backpack off so I can move around the pipes easier, then I put Bouncy Bouncy in the backpack so I will have a hand free and he will not get so dirty. Next I move things around on my utility belt so I can crawl better. Once ready, I start crawling and dragging the backpack. There are a lot of old spider webs down here but that doesn’t bother me. Spiders don’t like dust on their webs so I know no one is home, plus if remember my biology class, they will not be out during winter months either.
Once I think I hear movement in the boarded up castle. I freeze and listen. After twenty monkeys, I begin crawling again. The dirt under the house feels funny compared to dirt under the sun. Sort of clingy like it wants to come with me so it can have its day in the sun also. I wonder if the dwarves under the mountain of Moria sometimes want to come out and just see the sun. Also, why are there no gnomes in middle earth? Are hobbits really gnomes but with just smaller noses and bigger feet?
Is this a strange train of thought? Yes it is, but you try crawling under a house that might have un-people, while trying to save yourself and another from cannibals with rifles while frightened for your life and see if a little imaginative (I am proud I remember this word also) daydreaming
doesn’t help keep you calm.
Finally, past the pipes, covered in a lot of old cobwebs and dirt, I make it to the exit near the driveway. I have to work hard in getting the screen out of the way but finally do it, luckily they will not be needing it any more. I push the backpack out then get myself out. The coast is clear! I hurriedly put my backpack on and take a step towards the truck but there is no B.B. in the driver’s section.
Blink...Blink...Blink and now turn head to right while developing a blank look peeking under dirty cobweb laced face.
Things seem to stop for a moment when I see the empty truck like my brain decides to take a break from my life’s show and go the bathroom because it is time for a commercial break the way Houston and I did when we were watching our television shows. During the “commercial break” my senses slowly come back into focus when I begin to taste the old cobwebs and smell the sad clingy dirt. From a long way off I hear something but it doesn’t make any sense. The entire time the empty truck stays right in front of me. My brain finally makes it back to its couch in the living room of my skull to return to the show of my life just when my darn backpack straps bite into my arm pits as it is yanked up again which lifts me off my feet. Seems this part of my life is a re-run or over use of the backpack yank gag.
Because I had hurriedly put my backpack on I hadn’t fastened all the straps so I of course fall out of my backpack and land on my back looking up at the faces of the cannibals. With almost military efficiency I employ the only tactic at my disposal....
I scream my head off!
Chapter Nine
Fate
Screaming is not really a good idea. At night it can attract the un-people in the form of a hunting mob from any direction. If done during the daytime, like what it is right now but in a large shaded area, you still could get a hunting mob if they can move to you and still stay in the shade, while like now out in the open and in broad daylight, you could attract unwanted attention of the living. In the case of my current situation, I already have the unwanted attention of the living, so that issue is not a problem in itself, but I do have the unexpected bonus in the form of a familiar and wonderful roar heading this way.