November Seed

by David Nadas

was the guy you wanted around in a life and death situation. He just never thought that day would come. Ironically, there were guns involved on that first day they met and hopefully this would not be their last day together. For the remainder of the day, Matt checked out the backup generators and levels of propane in the holding tanks as Dan collected some fallen trees nearby and chopped them into firewood. The girls took inventory of the cabinets in the kitchen and discovered a cache of dried food in the garage guesthouse. All in all, they could survive for quite a few months on what they had; with the lakes not yet frozen solid, they could still catch some small fish off the dock.

  The sun was getting low and would be setting over the mountains soon. Everyone was in the family room. Cell reception had disappeared along with internet. Television infrastructure was crumbling. Then they saw and heard it: the flicker of a desk light and the low rumble of the generator off the mudroom kicking on. Matt asked everyone to check all lights in the bedrooms to make sure there was no unnecessary use of electricity and to unplug all cellphone and iPad chargers. They swept the house and met back in the family room.

  "The generator will only run when the draw is greater than what the solar inverters produce. The panels on the roof should cover us during the day. We'll need the generator at night to keep the food cold and pump water from the well, but that should be minimal. Try not to use the hot water unless you have to. All the suites have their own tankless hot water heaters, so the draw there should be small. We have enough wood to keep us warm."

  "Has anyone seen Oscar?" Cindi asked.

  "I let him out back earlier." Ed replied. I'll go check."

  Ed walked into the kitchen and opened the back door. "Oscar!" followed by a sharp whistle. "Here boy!"

  Ed returned to the family room, "Could he be up in Jen's room with the door shut?"

  "I'll go check." Jen eagerly volunteered, and scampered out of the room and past the kitchen to the back staircase, even though the main staircase was closer. Any excuse for her to tread up the narrow wooden steps that twisted around like a secret passage.

  She returned to the family room, winded. "He's not upstairs."

  "I'm sure he's outside somewhere. " Cindi said. "’I’ll check the front door, he could be sitting there waiting to get in." She returned without Oscar.

  "I'll check outside again,” Ed offered.

  "I'll go with you,” Dan added, grabbing the Moss on the way out. He could tell Ed was relieved, as were Cindi and Laurie. Ed was the stereotypical computer geek that could get lost in his own driveway, but could hack into any corporate network, as well as play a mean ukulele.

  The sky was bright and the low sun was filtering through the trees as Ed and Dan stood outside.

  "Oscar!" Ed called out. "Come on, boy!"

  "Ed, I'll check the garage and guest house in case he got locked in there. You okay to check down by the dock?"

  "Sure. No problem,” he replied and headed down the path, nine mm in hand.

  On his way to the garage, Dan was looking in the snow for tracks but could not see any dog prints. If fact, there were no prints of any sort. As he approached the back door to the garage, he heard the faint call from Ed.

  "Dan! Dan, come here. I found him!"

  It was more frantic then Dan cared to hear as he sprinted back through the yard and down the path, scaling the rocks until he reached the bottom of the trail where it opened up onto the dock. He could see Ed on the other side of the boathouse, standing with his back toward him.

  "Ed?"

  Ed half turned. There were tears running down his face, his hair a mess, as he rubbed his mouth repeatedly with his forearm. As Ed stepped aside, Dan could see Oscar at the end of the dock, his jaws clamped firmly onto the oversized boat cleat Laurie's father had salvaged from the local Coast Guard station. From the back of Oscar's head, Dan could make out the Twig and his heart sank in his chest.

  Dan walked over to Ed and placed a hand on his shoulder. Dan looked down at Oscar and could hear the slow deep breaths beneath his shaggy coat. He was still alive, a sigh now and then, his eyes focused on the distance.

  "Yesterday morning," Ed began. "Before we knew anything, I took Oscar down to the end of the street by the bay like I always do. He loved to run in and out of the reeds. That's where he got it. Isn't it, Dan?" Ed looked up. "Oh God!" He said, running his hand through his hair, checking the back of his head. "I don't want anything to happen to Cindi or Jen. Oh please God." And he began to sob. "It's my fault. It's all my fault."

  "Ed. Come on. You said it yourself. It was before anyone knew anything. It's not your fault."

  Ed was trembling. He dropped the pistol onto the dock and crossed his arms, holding in the pain, and began to tremble as he looked down at Oscar once more.

  “Dan. You know how this will end.”

  “Yes, I do.” Dan replied, knowing very well that it was game over, for all of them.

  "Please God. Don't do this!” Ed cried out, tilting his head upward.

  Dan placed his arm around Ed's shoulders. "Ed, there's nothing you or I can do here. We need to go back to the house. Come on. Take a few deep breaths. You need to be strong about this, for Cindi and for Jen. Hold them, Ed. Tell them you love them." All Dan could think of was how Oscar had padded over to Asha and was licking her face. And now he was going to lose her.

  "Come on." Dan said. "Take a deep breath. It will be important for them to see you looking in control."

  Ed was nodding, still looking down in despair. He blinked clear his eyes and took a few deep breaths.

  "That's good,” encouraged Dan. "For now, let's not say anything about Oscar. No need to panic everyone. I'll tell Matt. He's much more—“ and he placed his fist up to his mouth searching for the right words and stifling his own dreaded thoughts, —“he’s much more diplomatic than I would ever be at this sort of thing.”

  "When they returned to the house, Dan opened the door to the mudroom and stepped in, shaking the snow from his boots. "You ready, Ed?"

  "No," Ed nodded. "Not really." And they stepped into the kitchen.

  Matt, Laurie and Asha were standing around the center island.

  "Any luck?" Laurie asked, popping a grape into her mouth.

  Dan responded before Ed had any chance to falter. "No, but I'm sure wherever he is, he'll remember who feeds him," gaining a laugh from even Ed. But it was the laugh from Asha that pierced his heart.

  "Matt, can you help me with the generator outside.” Dan asked. “Looks like a loose bolt."

  "Sure. Let me grab my coat and toolbox." He followed Dan outside.

  Dan stood there with his hands in his pockets looking into his best friend's eyes.

  "It's not about the generator, is it?" Matt asked. I can see it in your eyes. Is it about the truck thing, because I'm ok with it?"

  "Matt. We found Oscar. He's down by the dock. He's a Twig, Matt." And saying aloud what Matt was now thinking, "That's not good news. All of us have had close contact with Oscar, and each other."

  Matt looked visibly ill. He dropped the toolbox to the ground and placed his hand over his mouth. He was at a loss for words and was shaking his head with his eyes closed tight. He then looked back at the house. "Laurie,” he muttered, and walked inside, leaving Dan where he was.

  A minute later, Asha stepped out into the cold air with only her tee shirt for warmth. There were tears in her eyes. She stood on the porch stoop and as Dan started toward her she leapt into his arms, kissing him passionately. He peeled off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, then reached for her hand and led her inside. Matt and Laurie were not there as he led Asha through the kitchen and into his room. Inside, she threw herself at him once again, backing him into the pine-slatted door and closing it tightly. Still kissing her, he raised her off the floor and walked her to his bed, gently laying her down. Like lovers separated for years, they tore at each other's clothes. Dan on his b
ack, his shoulders up against the headboard, as he watched her unhook the clasp of her bra and toss it to the side. The setting sun splashed upon her golden skin, intensifying her beauty, and he lay motionless watching her mount and guide him into her, never taking his eyes away from her own. She leaned down and moved toward his lips, her breasts brushing against his chest as she kissed him gently, her tears rolling onto his cheeks.

  It was dark when Dan and Asha entered the family room. Jen lay with her head in her mother’s lap as Cindi stroked her daughter’s hair, while Ed sat at the other end of the couch, defeated. Matt stood by the fire, beer in hand, iron poker dangling from the other as Laurie rested her head against his shoulder, both her hands clasped around Matt's arm. It felt like a room for the condemned.

  Dan coughed to announce their entrance and the room seemed to go from pause to play; Matt stirring the wood that sent sparks up the chimney, Ed getting to his feet and asking if anyone needed something to drink as he exited to the kitchen, Cindi asking if there was music to put on, Jen offering her iPhone’s playlist, and Laurie facing Dan and Asha, her eyes glassed over with tears and feeling genuinely happy for them. Matt addressed the elephant in the room. There was no avoiding it.

  “I think we shouldn't interfere,” pausing. “We don’t know what happens in the process.” It was getting too difficult a subject to address.

  “Are we going to turn into Twigs?”