Installment #20 Kevin and Greg

Installment #20

Kevin and Greg

Kevin merged into the I 25 North  and quickly set the cruise control on 75 mph.  They would catch I 80 West in Cheyenne.  It might be a bit out of the way mileage wise, but it would cut almost 2 hours off the trip.  “OK, Greg.  What is eating you?  You been all tied up since yesterday.  You might just as well spit it out!”

“Ok, Kevin.  Are you buying that crock about your mom building a fortress of her house just cause she is getting old?  She is not that old and I am pretty sure she can take care of herself.  Something is going on there that she isn’t telling you, and I don’t like it.”  He waited for a response and when none came he forged on, “ Why didn’t we walk up the mountain?  There are trails up there.  I seen them, but she was like a little frightened rabbit when I suggested that.  Did you notice?”   He stopped and this time waited for an answer.

“Well, yeah.  We used to hike up there a lot.  Maybe there are more houses up there now and it is private property.  Or it is rattlesnake season when they shed their skin and they are blind and can’t get out of our way.  That’s how people get bit by those Timber Rattlers.”  He stopped and looked at Greg.  He needed more.  He sounded like a little kid.  “Alright!  Alright!  I don’t know what is going on and I am sure there is more than she is telling us, but what can I do?  They outlawed the tying up and grilling of Mothers a very long time ago.  I am sure she will be alright and she will do what needs to be done and if something or someone is threatening her, she will handle it.  She is a big girl.”

Greg sighed.  “Well, I really like your mom and I hope you are right.  I wish she had some closer neighbors.  Do you know any of them?  Can they check on her?”

“Gee, Greg, people move to the mountains to be alone.  I know the handyman she uses a little.  We always called him ‘that silly old Fred’.  He has been up the mountain for years.  I think he still has the same old pickup that he had when I was living at home, but maybe not.  We always thought he was married and his wife left him and his son moved away, but seems like that was just a rumor.  Never been married.  Never had a kid.  Guess the only rumor that held any water was that his dad had killed his mother and hid her body in the root cellar.  I think he is scared of root cellars.  Oh, yeah and women.  Seems he was an only child.  But I don’t know if he even has a phone.  Sure he doesn’t do the Internet!”

They fell into a restless silence as they thought about Meg and the miles whipped past.  They stopped in Cheyenne for a rest stop before getting on I 80.  They  bought  a cappuccino and a bag of  Fritoes.  When they returned to the car, Greg took the wheel.

They enjoyed the scenery and sipped the hot cappuccinos.  Meg was never very far from their minds, but they could not think of a way to protect her when they had no idea what to protect her from.

Installment #19 Sunday morning

Sunday morning

Meg quickly made a large blender full of her smoothie recipe.  Blue Berries, yogurt,
Coconut milk, a fresh peach and wheat germ.  She poured it into 3 glasses, put them on a tray beside the scones and carried them to the patio.  The boys were intent on watching the sun creeping up over the horizon.

“See, Greg.  It is not at all like California.  Even the colors are different.  And see how quick it pops up?  Not like California at all.”

“No, but that is because of the humidity, the colors I mean.  Colorado is dry.  So the colors are more muted and more reds and oranges.  California has humidity so they appear brighter and there are more greens and blues.  Ask anyone.  Google it.  And it pops up because the mountains are there.  California is flat. So it goes down real slow.”  They turned and looked at Meg as if seeking a final opinion.

“Yep” was all she said as she picked up her glass, a scone and settled down in the cushioned chair facing the sunrise.  “This is one of the things that keeps me here on this place,  right here at the foot of the Rockie Mountains.  Heaven on earth.  Just ask the chickens.”  As if on cue the Rhode Island Red Rooster announced to the world that it was now morning, albeit a bit late.  They all laughed.
As Kevin set his empty glass back on the tray and dusted the crumbs off his shirt, he turned to Meg with a very serious look on his face.  “Now, mom, you should know how it is with Kevin and I.  We have decided to move in together.  We have actually found a house we like that is convenient to both of our jobs.  When we get back we are going to list his house and I have money from my last home sale, so we are in good shape.”  As an afterthought he added, “ The pub does really well.  Especially in this economy.”

Meg digested this little announcement and then smiled.  “Well, this is great!  I mean really.  If one of you were a female, I could throw an engagement party!”  She laughed, but the boys did not.  “Ok, that is not what I meant to say.  What I meant is this,  I am very happy for both of you.  I know better than most how hard real love is to come by and I think you two make a great couple.  It is a shame that society can not accept, but I think someday they will.  Until then, we will just celebrate here at home and I probably will not announce it in church today.  Hey!  Let’s just skip church this morning and go into town and celebrate with a lovely lunch!”  Church would keep, but Kevin and Greg would not.  They would leave early in the morning and she was selfish.

Greg spoke first.  “Meg, you will always have a home with us.  You are not loosing a son, you are gaining one.”

Tears welled up in Meg’s eyes as she silently thanked her God for bringing this kind soul into her son’s life.

Installment #18 Meg, Kevin, Greg

Meg, Kevin, Greg

The walk had been a long one.  The only jogged a little of the 4 miles.  The conversation was easy and Meg and Greg warmed to each other.  The Green Chile was simmering in the crock pot and when they returned to the house the spicy aroma greeted them.  They were immediately ravenous.  Meg heated the refried beans and the tortillas.  She spooned the beans into the tortilla, sprinkled it with grated cheddar cheese, spooned on sour cream and rolled it up.  She ladled a generous amount of the Green Chile over it, put a little chopped lettuce on the plate and handed it to Greg.  She quickly made a plate for Kevin and herself.  They sat at the table and looked at the steaming plates.

“OK, Greg, dig in!”  Kevin laughed.  He had told Greg what Green Chile was and now he was seeing it first hand.  Brown the small bits of pork, add garlic, tomatoes,  the Pueblo Chiles chopped and then water.   Simmer and the longer it simmered the hotter it would get.  Greg had heard about the Pueblo Chiles, but this was his first encounter with the food that was such a part of Kevin’s heritage in Colorado.  He dipped his spoon in gingerly and raised it to his mouth.  He felt the top of his head bead up with the heat of something he had never encountered before.  Tears stung his eyes.  He gasped for breathe.

“What in the hell is that!”  Meg and Kevin stared in amazement.  Never had they seen the likes of this out of quiet retiring Greg.  Kevin stammered.

“Oh, I am sorry.  I told you it would be hot.  That is the peppers.  Mom?”

“Greg, dear, this is not hot.  This is mild.  I did not want your first taste of Colorado
Mexican food to be a bad one.  Here.  Do it this way.”  She took her spoon and cut off a small piece of burrito and covered it with Green Chile.  She put it in her mouth, chewed and smiled.  “ You just don’t eat the Green Chile alone. Let me get you a glass of milk.  That will help.”  She left the table and returned with a large glass of milk which she placed in front of him.  He immediately took a drink of it.

Then he smiled at Kevin and Meg.  “ I am not going to let a damn pepper beat me.  If you can eat it, I can eat it. “  He then cut off a small piece as Meg had done and shook off most of the Chile.  In his mouth and he chewed slowly.  “Hey, that ain’t bad at all.  But I gotta say, you two are a couple sadists!”  But very soon he was holding his plate and heading for the stove and a second burrito!  Kevin smiled and silently thanked the God above for leading him into Your Little Pub  that rainy day not so very long ago.  If ever a match was blessed from above it had to be this one.  Meg smiled at her son and nodded.  Mother’s just had a way of knowing this stuff.

When dessert was brought to the table Kevin whooped jumped up.  “Oh, Greg!  You are in for a treat.  This is the Italian part of Colorado.  Tiramusu.  Mom!  Tell him how to make it.  Oh, God are you in for a treat.”
                                                                    
Meg stared at her son.  “Ok, the first thing you need is Lady Fingers and they are dry.  Then you mix coffee with Kahlua.  Meanwhile you whip heavy whipping cream with sugar and egg yolks.  Then you fold in Marscapone cheese which is a lot like cream cheese only it is from Italy and very expensive.  Then you dip the Lady Fingers in the coffee and Kahlua and put them in the bottom of the pan.  One layer of that.  Then cover this with the whipped cream mixture.  Then another layer of Lady Fingers and more whipped cream.  Then sprinkle on some cocoa.  Stick it in the fridge and then impress everyone for dessert.” 

“Oh, yeah,” laughed Kevin, “but you should have seen it the first time she made it.  She thought the Lady Fingers were really dry so she held them under until they quit bubbling.  She had to mix coffee and Kahlua three times and she used almost a quart of Kahlua!  I was 16 and so damn drunk I couldn’t even get up the stairs.  Everybody was!  We ate the whole thing that night.  Way to go Mom!”

Greg smiled as he held out his dessert plate for seconds.  “Guess you must be part Italian too!”
The boys tidied the kitchen as Meg checked her email   Nothing from redranger.   She felt a little disappointed, but knew that he was giving her space to spend time with Kevin.  He was very considerate that way.  She had three sales, so she printed the labels for those, affixed them to the boxes, shut down the computer  and turned out the light.  As she closed the door to the office and stepped into the hall, she found Kevin and Greg sharing a kiss.  She stopped and then realized that this did not bother her.  She had been afraid that it would, but now that the moment was here it seemed ludicrous that she had even thought about it.  She smiled to herself.

“Hey you two!  It is bedtime.”  The boys jumped apart at her words and laughed nervously.  She kissed each one lightly on the cheek and then turned into her own room.  There would just be tomorrow and then they would leave.  “Church tomorrow.  You boys going with me?”

“Well, if you think it is alright.”

“Of course it is!”  But as she closed her door she wondered.  “At least I hope it is .“ were her last thoughts before she reached for her night gown.

Installment #17

Him

He fingered his scar as he watched from his roost.  The little fag boy was there with his little fag friend.  Meg was happy to see them.  She hugged them both.  Both of them!  Not just her son.  He could have forgiven that, but both of them.  Like that was her daughter in law.  Couldn’t she see how wrong that was?  They were both men, for God’s sake!  He could see that Kevin was going to have to meet with something bigger than life.  Maybe on the way back home.  San Francisco was a lot of miles and a lot could happen.  Or maybe when he got home there would be a very big earthquake.  Yes!  God had his way of dealing with these people.

Oh, and now there was that jerk from up North to deal with.  Life had sure been simple before he managed to sync his computer with hers and become part of her network.  He could not believe his eyes when he saw the redranger invite himself to Denver and then ask her to join him.  He was aghast when she accepted.  Was she a common trollop?  She was actually going to meet that man in Denver.  That Eldon.  Where?  Who knew.  Probably his motel room.  Well, that would happen over somebody’s dead body.  And it was not going to be his.

He reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out the salve that he kept there for just that use.  This had some sort of Novocain or something in it that numbed it just enough to make the pain bearable.  As he rubbed it he thought back to that summer night on the river.  They were knee deep in mud in the heart of Viet Cong territory.  It was a stealth operation as they crept closer to the big paddle boat.  He could hear them laughing and they seemed to be passing something around.  No doubt it was some sort of liquor because they were normally more vigilant than they were tonight.  The first soldier reached the barge, pulled the pin on the grenade and heaved it over the side.  The concussion was instantaneous and more than they expected.  As the Viet Cong were thrown in the air, so was he.  He learned later that he had landed face down on an iron piling.  His eye was gone.  His face a mess of an open wound from his left eyebrow to his right jawbone.  The doctors talked of reconstruction, and did the best they could, but they were not experienced at this sort of thing.  By the time he was stateside it was apparent that it was just something he would live with.  Viet Nam was not a popular war.

He had mustered out in Wichita, Kansas of all places.  By this time he was used to the stares, but not ready for what lay ahead.  Mom, Dad and Jeffery had met him at the station and returned him to Tulsa, Oklahoma where they were living at the time.  Dad was a banking consultant so he moved around a lot.  Oklahoma had some great catfish and Dad did like to fish so what better way to live than doing what he liked?

 Dad and Jeffery had looked at his face and studied it.  Then it was accepted and they went to the next subject.  Not Mom.  She had recoiled.  She had stared.  She had lost her voice.  She did not touch him.  His own mother did not want to touch him.  He massaged his scar and thought of her.  He hated her.  He had left Oklahoma and when he shook the Oklahoma red dirt off his boots, he shook his mother off also.  He kept in touch with Dad and Jeffery, but just barely.  When mom died he did not go home for the funeral.  And he was not very surprised when Dad found some woman and retired in Vermont.  Little town called Brattleboro.  Jeffery had drifted away and he had let him.  He needed no one.  He wanted Meg, but he did not need her.  He had thought once that he needed his mother, but that was a wasted thought.  That was when he was a needy little boy, but that little boy was gone long ago.

He leaned forward as the door opened and Meg, Kevin and Greg came out followed by the dogs.  He knew by the knap sack that they were going for a walk or run or maybe a little of both.  He had watched Meg and Kevin in California so he knew the routine.  Course Greg would be a health nut like Kevin.  That was alright.  Just so they stayed in California and left Meg alone out here.  He could spare a few days.  What was a few more days when he had already waited over 3 years?  He had never been very good with the ladies.  Never learned the fine art of  wooing and winning one of the fair sex.  Fair sex?  He snorted.  Bitches every one.  His mother first and the way she had always fawned over Jeffery.  No “atta boys” for him.  Do this and do that, but no “thank you, son.”  Not from her or the old man.  He remembered suddenly, like a misty memory from way back in the deepest recesses of his mind coming home from school and running into the kitchen.  His mother was there and so was the neighbor man.  Forgot his name.  He remembered his mother being red in her face and the neighbor man fumbling with his overalls.  Funny smell.  He had learned things since that day and he knew what his mother was.

He thought of the girls in high school.  He was a jock and the girls hung around the field.  After the game on Friday night there was always a party and always one of the girls wanting to spread her legs and think it was love.  Love!  He spat.  No way.  If he ever fell in love it would not be with one of those sluts.  It would be with a woman the direct opposite of his mother.  A woman who held herself above the fray and tumult of every day living.  A woman who emitted a light, like the one he saw when he looked at the Virgin Mary.  That one.  And when they consummated on the wedding night she would hold very still.  That would be her duty.  And of course, she would conceive that night and they would not have to do that again until they wanted another baby.  He would cherish her.  They would talk about things like his work.  The house would be spotless.  The child would be perfect and never cry.

He realized that the threesome and the dogs had rounded the bend in the road and were now out of sight.  He let himself drift for a moment thinking of Meg Jakson and dreaming of what their life would be like.  He envisioned her standing in the door of the cabin in a very pale blue dress.  There was lace at the throat.  The hem fell well below her knees.  She wore sturdy shoes.  And an apron of gingham.  Oh, and a plate of cookies.  She knew he liked cookies.  How did she always manage to have a plate of fresh cookies when she never knew when he was coming home?  She was wonderful.  Everything he had hoped she would be. She stared at him like he was her complete world.  Her eyes were wet like she was about to cry because she was so full of love for him that it was overwhelming.  And he kissed her lightly on the forehead.  His world was perfect.  And the best part was that she was past the child bearing years so they did not need to do the dirty, despicable act to procreate.  They did not need a child to make their world complete; they had each other.

With this vision in his mind he climbed down from his perch, checked the limbs at the base of the tree, took the 7 steps to the opening, stepped inside and hurried back to his cabin.  He secured the door behind himself.  He opened a can of Campbell’s Bean and Bacon soup and put it on to heat.  He made a cold Ham sandwich.  He ate at the table with a small glass of red wine.  He was nothing if not civilized at all times.  Then he opened the refrigerator and took out his bottle of Scotch.  It was the one vice he allowed himself and only here and only when he was ready for bed.  He dropped 4 ice cubes in a tumbler and splashed the Scotch over them.  He swirled the glass as he put on his pajama’s.
 
Then he sat in his recliner and leaned back at a 45 degree angle with his feet elevated so he could just see the felted gray slippers.  He sipped the drink as he let images flit through his mind.  Meg in her flannel night gown.  Meg lying quietly on her side of the bed.  Meg with her hungry eyes looking at him.  Of course he had on his cotton pin striped pajama’s.  He took her hand because this was how they usually slept.  He realized how soft her hand was.  For some reason unknown even to him, he kissed her fingertips.  Her eyes flew open in surprise.  He had never made a gesture like this in the three months they had been together.  He sat bolt upright in the recliner and his feet hit the floor.  My God!  What was he thinking?  Was he wanting to have sex with her?  Sex!  Sex with a woman?  Sex with Meg?

He ran to the bathroom and retched.  His stomach spasmed until there was nothing left to  lose.  He must not think like this.  But if not that, then what did he want?  Did he want to spend the next 30 or 40 years of his life lying in bed with a woman and never touching her?  That was not realistic.  Could he do it without seeing his mother and farmer Brown grunting in the kitchen.  He must think.   Yes, he must think and have a plan, but not tonight.  It frightened him too much.  He climbed into bed and curled into a fetal position and cried himself to sleep.

Installment #16

Meg

Meg signed in to her email account and was rewarded with a note from redranger.  “Meg, I have news.  I will be in Denver next week and I would love to meet you.  Can you free up some time for me?”

Well, that was not at all what she expected.  They had decided early in the correspondence that they would be friends and neither one wanted entanglements. Was Eldon changing the rules?  She was tempted to act like she had not received the email, but then thought better of it.  Eldon was moody and knew how much time she spent on the computer.  She decided that honesty was the best course in this case.  So she hit the reply button.

“ Are you changing the rules?  I thought this was going to be Internet Only.”

“I thought so too, but this opportunity has come up there in Denver and it seems rude to not meet you since I will be that close and I will have time on my hands.  Nothing serious, just a cup of coffee on the fly.  We are friends aren’t we?  We have fun together on the net, we could surely have a few laughs in a coffee house.”

Meg chuckled.  Of course he was right.  What was she afraid of anyway?  It wasn’t like it was a lifetime commitment.  It was a lousy cup of coffee.  “You are right.  But when?  My son is coming for a few days and I don’t want to run off and leave him.”

“I will be there next Thursday, the 15th and not leave until the following Wednesday.  When will Kevin be there?  I don’t want to step on his toes.”

“Kevin will be here tomorrow and will leave Monday, so that is good.”  She flushed at the thought of meeting a real live man.  Eldon had intrigued her from the first email and now she wondered just what would be bringing him to Denver.  But that would wait.  “Are you flying into Denver?”
“Sure am.  Got a rental car thing so I have transportation.  This is going to be great, Meg.  Oh, gotta run.  We will talk next week.”  And he was gone.  He certainly was a man of few words.

Meg headed to the kitchen to make a batch of cookies before Kevin and Greg arrived in the morning.  The pork was in the meat drawer so the Green Chile could be made in short order.  She had gotten Kevin’s email and knew that Greg ran a pub and was a chef so she wanted it to be good.  It would be, but not the gourmet stuff that Greg did.  She took a deep breathe and vowed that this would be a very pleasant weekend.  Two days was not long, but it was all the boys could spare.  It was an 18 hour drive so they would be tired.  But they would split the driving so maybe not.

As she emptied the last cookie sheet she realized that she was very tired .  As she climbed the stairs she thought about all the bars on the windows and doors.  Well, Kevin would know now.  Well, not everything.  She would tell him she was just getting old and wanting to feel secure.  Surely he could understand that.  She was living out here all alone.  She suddenly remembered the tree and the perfect view that it afforded to her home.  Was that just something bizarre or what?  Why would anyone watch her?

But her last thought as she lay in her bed before sleep over took her was not of the tree, or the path, or any of that stuff.  It was of redranger and a man named Eldon that she would meet in less than a week.  Sweet dreams tonight as angel wings swept over her bringing blissful sleep.

 

Installment #15

Kevin and Greg

“Greg!  You are as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof.  She is my mother, for crying out loud, not the Queen of England!”  Kevin laughed as he caught Greg around the waist and planted a big one near his eye.  Then they both laughed.  This was going to be fun.  They were driving to Colorado this weekend and work was far away.  This was a weekend to just cut loose and enjoy life.

“Well, that is easy enough for you because she is your mother.  What if she doesn’t like me?  Have you thought of that?”  Greg threw a sweater at the suitcase.

“No.  Why wouldn’t she like you?  Besides I am going to be the one living with you, not her.”  He stood behind Greg at the mirror and met his eyes.  He smiled.  “Damn!  Don’t we make a great couple?”  Then as an after thought, “ You take the wheel the first hundred and then we will switch.  Where are we stopping for breakfast?  I am already hungry.”

Greg reached for the keys and picked up the suitcase with the other hand.  “You did call her, didn’t you?  She does know we are coming?”

“Of course and she is making a big pot of Green Chile for you, white boy!  Mom is a  great cook!”

 Kevin pulled the door shut and heard the lock catch.  They hurried down the sidewalk to the drive and the car, ready for a big adventure like the overgrown kids they were.

Installment #14

Him

He parked the Jeep Cherokee close to the cabin door.  He thought briefly what a beautiful afternoon it was and then grabbed his Laptop and  the sack and hurried inside.  Setting his load on the table he hurried into the kitchen.  He opened the small door beside the door that led to the root cellar  and peered inside.  It was dark and very quiet.  He took the flash light off the shelf and pushed the button to turn it on.  Light flooded the tunnel and he moved quickly forward.  He had been in town for almost the whole week and a lot can change in a few days.  He must see.  The fruit loop who dug this for him had done a great job and he reached the forest very quickly.  He pushed sideways on the lid that covered the opening and it slid away easily.  He stepped up the two steps into the clearing.  Leaving the opening he hurried forward to his tree.  Three steps up and one over and he was in his place.

He reached high in the branches and caught hold of the telescope that he stored there.  He put it to his eye, turned a knob and gazed at the small farm below.  Meg was just coming out of the walk in refrigerator. She had gathered the eggs for the day.   Oh, the joy of good luck.  He watched her lithe frame as she walked to the house.  She had to be the most beautiful woman in the world.  And she was his.  All his.  He loved to watch her when she did not know he was there.  Something erotic about the act and he vaguely wondered if it would be the same when she was in his arms.  A country song came to mind “Who Are You When I’m Not Lookin?”  “My oh, my you’re so good lookin’.  Held together like a pair of book ends.  Something something.”  Some idiot singer.  He tittered to himself.  Soon.

When she went into the house he surveyed the work that had been done there while he was gone.  Looked very secure.  Looks were deceiving.  There was not a lock or a bar that would keep him from her world.  He would simply have her invite him in.  Yes, that was best.  Just how to make it happen may prove a challenge at first, but not an insurmountable one that was for sure.  “Where there is a will there is a way.” he thought to himself as he felt the key that dangled from a string around his neck.  If worst came to worst, he would just unlock the door and walk inside.
He replaced the telescope in the niche in the back of the tree trunk and hurried down the self made ladder to the ground.  He noticed the ground was getting a little trampled at the base of the tree.  He found a few loose branches and tossed them there.  Looked a lot better.   He hurried to his tunnel, stepped inside and twisted the cover in place.  Soon he stepped out into his kitchen.  Home.  Yes, Home Sweet Home.

Installment #13

Fred

Fred frowned as he hung up the phone.  Damn pesky woman.  What was she so afraid of anyway?  If any body was small enough to get in that doggie door, they were sure as hell too little to hurt any body and the dogs could eat them in two bites.  He held the Hershey can in his left hand as he placed the phone back on the wall with his right.  He was not ready to let this one go.  For some reason this one was special.

Usually the money went into a hole in the yard as soon as he had the time to dig the hole, but he wanted to keep this one for a while.  People would think he was nuts if they knew.  Well, what was nuts about keeping money in cans at home?  Made a lot more sense than handing it over to one of the twits at the bank who would put it in a drawer and give it out to other people.  It was his and they should not have his money.  They had explained to him that every month he would get a total of how much he had, much like the account his dad had set up for him.  Only that was once a year.  He had to go in and set across the big mahogany desk from some white haired old fart who droned on about the investments and the check he got every month and how wonderful his father had been to do this.  Like he was a simpleton!

How much was in that account his dad still controlled from the grave?  He did not remember.  More than when it started.  He snorted.  Some day the state of Colorado was going to get a shit pot full of money, courtesy of Fred Himes, Jr. via Fred Himes, Sr.  He really should leave a note about the cans in the yard, but why?  They were his.  Earned by the sweat of his brow.  If he wanted to bury them he could.  He could burn that money if he so chose, but no, he had made a memorial to his god, who ever that was.  Apparently, it was the almighty dollar.  No, because money had never brought him any happiness either.  It was the memory of where the money came from.  Like the $16,450 that was the money for the  big barn he had built for that gimp legged guy over the draw east of him.

Then there was $19,000 from that scar faced guy just North of Meg’s farm.  Now that was crazy. Dug a tunnel from his root cellar straight west  to the edge of the forest.  Well, dug a trench, covered it with planks and then dirt.  Nobody knew it was there.  Well, he knew.  And the scar faced guy knew.  Seemed like a damn waste of money to him.  No equipment!  No one must know.  Ok, fella, what ever you say.  Wonder where he got that big scar?  It was a gruesome looking thing for sure.  Ran from above his left eye, well where his left eye used to be, across his cheek and mouth to his right jawbone.  What ever it was sure had to have hurt.  Didn’t bother Fred, though.  He looked past stuff like that yet he couldn’t help but wonder.  Guy was a definite loner.  Or seemed to be.  But he did go into Denver several times a week.  Sometimes he stayed there.  Fred knew cause they shared the road in and out.  Funny that he did not seem to have a name.  No mail box either.

Fred sat deep in thought at the kitchen table as he stroked the Hershey can.  His eyes stared into the darkness of the forest.  But he did not see the trees or the tiny forest creatures.  He saw his mother.  His mother in her pretty red dress and her white patent leather shoes.  He saw the slash of bright red lipstick on her mouth and heard her laugh.  He heard the radio playing a lively tune.  “Come here, Freddie, come dance with Momma!  Make Momma happy!”  And he rose and followed her to the middle of the wooden kitchen floor.  As much as he tried not to, he would always love his Momma.  A tear slid slowly down his cheek and was lost in his beard.

Installment #12

Meg

Meg walked around the house.  The workmen were gone.  She was alone.  She had handed Fred the roll of bills and then insisted he count it for herself as well as for him.  She knew it was there, but she wanted him to know as well.  As she watched him she was suddenly struck by how innocent and child like he seemed.  There was more to Fred Himes then anyone would ever know.  She had asked for a tour around the house so he could show her what he had done.  He explained about the double welding and that it would take a cutting torch for anyone to get inside. “So don’t lose your key or you will be sleeping in the yard.”  He had suddenly become agitated when he said that.  Strange.  She turned back into the house then turned and watched him climb into his Toyota pick up.  Man that big had no business in a little truck like that.

She checked her eBay sales and then frowned because there were none.  Business was sure down for some reason.  She clicked through to her store and then to the mark down manager.  Of course she had to sign in again.  Ebay was very careful about that.  She selected several vinyls and then changed her mind and selected them all.  She marked them 50% off, selected the start and end date and then clicked to save.   That done she checked her emails.  Nothing very interesting there.  She wandered to the kitchen and stood at the sink.  She really should fix some lunch, but suddenly the idea of eating alone brought tears to her eyes.  Was this how the rest of her life would be?  Eating alone, sleeping alone, walking alone?  What was the point?  She opened the refrigerator and picked out an apple.  Then she grabbed a handful of Cheddar Cheese squares.  She took her keys off the hook behind the door.  At the clink of the keys, Daisy and Elvira appeared, fresh from a nap!

“Come on girls!  Let’s go for a little walk up the mountain”.  She picked her knap sack off the hook, put two bottles of water and an empty plastic sour cream tub inside.  “ Got everything you ladies need, so let’s hit it!”  She put the keys in her pocket, the knap sack over her shoulder, got a bottle of water for herself, and lastly took her walking stick down from over the door.  It was a gift from Tom many years ago.  It was very sturdy and had a hummingbird etched on the side with flowers.  Very good for stabilizing herself as she walked and sturdy enough that she could defend herself if need be. 
The dogs ran ahead and sniffed everything in sight.  Of course they also had to mark their territory, because that is what dogs do.  It was a beautiful day and while warm it had a cool breeze blowing down from the mountain.  She picked a trail that looked sort of worn and the dogs immediately joined her.  Birds flitted in the canopy overhead as they walked.  Meg was always alert to the possibility of a timber rattler so she kept the dogs close.

Almost imperceptibly a change came over Meg.  Her footsteps slowed and the dogs came closer.  What was it?  She could feel eyes on her.  She turned around. Nothing.  Daisy stopped and her hackles raised.  She stared ahead into the underbrush.  Meg stopped and strained her eyes.  Nothing.  No, wait, there was something.  Something about that big Pine tree.  The growth at the bottom of it was mashed down.  Had a bear been here?  Could very well have been.  It was wilderness and there were bears.  But the limbs had been removed.  No, not removed.  Only some of them.  It looked like a ladder the way they were staggered.  She stepped on the first one. Then up another one.  One more.  She could set up here and be quite alone.  This branch made a nice broad setting place.  She sat and turned.  Her eyes fell on her farm.  A cold feeling of dread settled over her.  Was she the only one that knew about this place?  She quickly scampered down the limbs again and when she reached the ground the dogs were staring at her quizzically. 

She turned quickly and started back down the path.  The dogs fell in step behind her and did not run and sniff.  They could barely keep up with her.  When she reached the edge of the clearing she stopped.  She opened the knap sack and got the bowl and water.  The dogs lapped greedily.  Meg gave them each a piece of cheese and then ate the rest of the cheese and the apple.  Her nerves began to relax and her mind began to clear.  Maybe it was just the spell of the forest.  She looked down the mountain.  She could not see her farm from here.  She looked up to see if she could see the tree she had climbed.  No.  She was going to need to delve into this a little further.  Where did the trail lead?  Was there a house up there?  If so, who lived there?  Who could she ask?  Fred.  Of course.  He had been on this mountain for years.  He would know. 

She knew she needed to proceed with caution when she talked to Fred because he was one skittish little fellow. That was alright.  She was just curious.  Now how to get Fred to the house without alerting him.  Of course!  Now the only way anyone could get into her house was if they used the doggie door.  It was in the wall going to the back yard.  True her dogs were small and so was the doggie door, but it could be possible.  She would have Fred build a metal cage that the dogs would exit into for their “personal needs”.  She would have plenty of time to visit with him while that was being done.  She glanced back over her shoulder as she hurried down the mountain.  She could not shake the feeling that eyes were boring into her back.

When she reached the house she quickly entered and slammed the door behind her.  With shaking hands she found Fred’s number, but before she dialed she took several deep breathes and composed herself.  The phone rang several times before she finally gave up.  She would try later.  He did not seem to have an answering machine.  After several hours, he answered. She explained her plan to him and he promised to come by the next morning.  She smiled as she hung up the phone.  Fred was so easy.

Installment #11

Fred

Ah, yes, this was going to be a good job.  Even after he paid for the wrought iron and the delivery he was going to pocket over $3,000. He thought briefly of where to hide it.  He had an empty Hershey’s can on the shelf.  That would work perfectly to hold the bills, but where in the yard.  He thought of all the little cans buried here and there.  The area around the cabin was getting pretty filled up, but he owned 12 acres so he was not going to run out of room any time soon.  It was just that he had a plan.  The money he got from his trust fund was plenty to live on.  And dad had built this little cabin and then left it to him when he died.  No one else to leave it to since his bitch of a mother had taken off with some salesman and left him and dad to figure it out.  He had been an impressionable teenager when she did that.   Both Fredric Himes, Jr and his father, Fredric Himes Sr. had mourned the loss of Marybeth Himes.  It was not that it was a shock, quite the contrary.  Fredric Himes worked long hours in the factory and then at his accounting job on the side and Marybeth was a young woman and full of life.  And she loved to dance and hang out with party people.

So she was gone one day.  Just gone.  No note, no tearful goodbye, just a slamming door while Freddie was in school and Fredric was at the factory.  Fredric donated her belongings to charity and never spoke her name again.  Freddie just envied the boys who had a mother and wished someone would make him cookies.  No one seemed too surprised that he never dated.  Girls were not to be trusted.  He learned to cook and keep house and what good would a woman be anyway?  He hung out in the saloon and learned the tricks of the trade there.                                                                                                              

He was a misfit in school so when he turned 16 years old, he just quit going.  Big waste of time.  He mowed yards and shoveled snow.  He painted and fixed roofs and mended fences and became quite the handyman.  Very dependable.  Did great work and charged a reasonable fee.  Strange bird, but honest as the day was long.  Then Dad built the house halfway up the mountain not far from Denver.  Built it for a vacation home.  Just some where to get away from the rat race that was his life.  But it was more to Freddie.  To him it was an oasis away from the pitying eyes of the people in Denver.  The ones who had never forgotten about how Marybeth had just walked away and not looked back.  Poor Freddie, raised by his Dad.  No woman in his life.

So they lived; the Father in Denver and the son on the mountain until one day the Father stepped in front of a train.  Some said it was an accident and some said it was on purpose.  So young, only 47 years old.  He had left a will and a very large Life Insurance.  The executor took over and a trust fund was established for Freddie.  The home on Larimer street was sold to a developer.  And then Freddie was dealt the crowning blow.  The house was demolished and the reason Marybeth had for leaving was revealed.  Her bones behind the wall in the root cellar spoke volumes and her son now saw it clearly.   His Father had not let her go quietly.  He had not let her go at all.  For all the years Freddie had missed his Mother, she was right out there in the yard.  And his benevolent Father had put her there.  Yes, the mountain was where he must remain.  The mountain and his solitary life.  Oh, and his cans of money.  Those were his monuments. When he buried one, he never dug it up.  He knew it was there.  He knew who had given it to him and why.  That was all he needed.  He had been doing this for 20 years and he had no idea how much was there.  It did not matter.  What did matter was that when he buried something of value, he remembered.  Not like his father.  No, not at all like his father.

Freddie looked at his reflection in the window.  He was not a bad looking man at all.  Just over six feet tall and a body hardened by hard work and primal living.  A diet of natural foods grown in his own yard kept him healthy.  Lots of water to drink.  A tender yearling deer on occasion, or a rabbit, or a dove furnished him with needed protein.  His dark brown hair was shoulder length and his beard was full. His dark Brown eyes were alert, but they covered the confusion in his mind. 

No woman was not exactly the truth.  There had been that one in Kansas when he was working construction.  That was back when he thought he was normal, before they found the bones.  He liked to travel the country and just taste life.  He had tasted that woman very deeply.  He had wanted to stay, but he couldn’t.  Women were evil.  They would tie you down and you would have to work in a factory and be tired all the time.  Then they would just leave.   She had been warm and willing and he had thought about telling her about his mom and asking if she was that way, but he knew better.  She would just lie.  He wished he could remember her name.  He could remember her body and how she moved beneath him, but he could not remember her face.  When the last day of work came he was relieved.  He had grabbed his gear and headed back to Denver, secure in the knowledge that she could never find him.  He was right.

Then he smiled as he remembered her name.  It was Darling.  Yes, that was it, Darling.

Installment #10

Kevin/Meg
Kevin stopped on the trail and fished the cell phone out of his pocket.  Mom. 
“Hey mom!  What’s up?  You never call this early.”
“Just wanted to tell you that I miss our little morning runs.  I knew you would be out this morning.  I guess I am just a little lonely for you.”
“Well, yeah, but if you moved out here you would not need to miss me, would you?”  He hesitated briefly, then forged ahead.  “Mom, I have met someone.  I want you to meet him.  If we can work it out we will fly out the end of the month.  He owns a pub here and will need to get someone to take care of it while he is gone.  And he has a cat.  And his own house.”  Kevin suddenly stopped as he realized he was rambling. “Mom?  You there?”
“Yes, dear.  Just give me a minute.  This is not what I expected this morning.”  She took a deep breathe.  “ I am so happy you have someone.  I just need a moment to gather my thoughts.”  Thoughts she must never let him know she had.  She waved the phone in the air as she crumpled a leaf.  “Kevin, my phone is acting up.  Let me call you this evening.”  As they rang off, Meg sank into the chair at the kitchen table and broke into sobs.
She had known for years that Kevin was gay.  But he had no steady friend, so there was hope.  Now it all came into a reality that she was not prepared for.  There were so many ramifications in the words “I have met someone.”  I have met a man and you will never be a grandmother.  I have met someone and I will never be your little boy again.  I will turn to him and turn away from you.  You will never hold a grandchild.  Never.  Never, ever.  She watched the truck bringing another load of the steel bars and it suddenly dawned on her that while she was building a wall to keep the world out, she was also building a wall to keep herself in.  Kevin had a right to be happy and if this man made
him happy wasn’t that more important than her selfish wants?  And how selfish that she
had not even asked his name.  She dried her eyes and watched the workman carrying the bars toward the house.  She would not share this with Kevin.
Kevin was just getting back to stride when the phone rang again.  Mom.  What now?  “Hi Mom.  Did you forget something?” 
“No, dear.  I just want you to know that I am happy you have some one and I would love to meet him.  But does he have a name and what does he do and all the things I should have asked before? “  Kevin suddenly laughed out loud.
“Oh, Mom!  I am so glad you lost your connection a bit ago, cause it sure sounds like you have a solid one now!  This is the mom I know.  I will email you all about him when I get off tonight.  Have a good day and I love you.”
“And I love you, Kevin.”  They both smiled as they broke the connection.  Meg turned back to the window and Kevin turned back to the trail.

Installment # 9

Him

He sat in the tree with his back against the broad trunk.  From this vantage point he had an unobstructed view of the small farm below.  Of course the telescope was one of the high dollar ones that could pinpoint and bring in a gnat if he needed it to.  He had not bought it for this particular reason, but rather to study the heavens, but he liked to use resources he had on hand.  If there was ever a question as to why he had such a high powered instrument he would just show them the notes in his “The moon as I see it.” notebook complete with dates and drawings.

What a beehive of activity it was this morning around the house.  It was very clear that Meg was having the house secured for some reason or another.  He thought back to his last visit and tried to recall if he had left anything behind.  Nothing.  He had seen the screen hanging loose last week and wondered about that.  It seemed that the screen had been loose for several days.  It seemed to go unnoticed until the idiot handyman had called her attention to it last week.  He would have been content to set here in his little nest up in the tree and watch her farm down below 24/7, but he did have to put in an appearance at the office occasionally.  Jennifer was an excellent secretary and office manager, but way too nosey for her own good.

He watched as the welders began installing the decorative iron over the windows.  He sure hoped it was to improve the look of the place and not to keep him out.  That was a waste of time. Nothing would keep him out of her world.  He had watched her and Tom for years and he had loved her then as much as he loved her now.  How convenient for him that Tom had loved hiking in the back country.  How convenient that the avalanche had swept down the mountain on that particular day burying Tom under many feet of snow.  Convenient?  He laughed to himself.  Memories are precious things and the best part of the memories is that they are all in the mind of the one remembering.  He alone knew how the avalanche started.  How patient he had been that morning shadowing Tom along on his back country trek that day.  He was way up the mountain and Tom down low.  And then he saw what he had been looking for.  The snow was piled and seemed to be trembling and just waiting for the signal.  He gave a shiver of delight as he pulled the starting pistol from his jacket and at just the right moment, pulled the trigger releasing the loud bang.  Tom’s head jerked upward at the sound, but all he saw was the wall of snow thundering down the slope directly headed for him.  He did not have time to even move.  He disappeared under a wall of white.  He was gone. 
The man gave a sigh of relief.

Poor Meg.  All alone with that little queer son in Boston.  She would need a man to take
occupy his time.  The job took very little time and was quite lucrative.  It all depended on the stock market.  Jennifer handled the paper work and all he had to do was invest money and make money for other people.  The more he made for other people the more he made for himself.  It paid well enough that he had been able to buy this little cabin in the mountains on 40 acres.  Solitude.  It was just a short commute into Denver and far enough away from civilization that he was not bothered by anyone.  And that is how he had found Meg and Tommy.  He had met them on a walk in the woods.  They had nodded to each other.  But Meg had looked directly into his eyes and smiled.  Not many women did that.  Well, actually, none.  The scars he had brought home from Viet Nam usually stopped people from coming any closer.  He did not need anyone close.  Even his own mother had shuddered when she saw him.  Her mistake.

Installment 8

Home

Meg grimaced as she settled at the computer.  63 emails.  She ran the cursor down the list.  Nothing from redranger.  She started with the junk, then the forwards.  Next she looked for the paypal’s that announced that she had received a payment.  There were six of them and she quickly printed them.  Then she clicked on the eBay “your item sold’s “ that corresponded with the payments.  Those out of the way she clicked on the other eBay correspondence.  Six were questions which she quickly answered. Two from peepster25 who told her first how much she liked her new necklace and then the next one wished her a good vacation.  8 items were ended and needed  to be relisted .  At last she stared at a blank screen.  She gathered the items that had sold and loaded the shipping labels in the top bed of the printer.  Before she could call up the shipping list the mail box clicked.  Redranger.  She opened the email and began to smile.  “Meg?”

“Eldon?”  And the conversation was on.  She told him how great the short vacation had been and how good Kevin looked and how they had ran and gone to the Golden Gate Bridge.  It felt good to visit with Eldon.  It was such a comfortable feeling.  No pressure.  And she could set at her computer in her ragged tee shirt and her gym shorts and he would never know.  Long distance, Internet romance, what ever you called it, was exactly what she needed this morning.
 
He was the first to break off since he had to go to work.  It was after 7:00 AM where he was which was an hour ahead of her time here in the Mountain Standard Time.  So he was sort of on Central Time.  She made a note to call Fred about the light in the chicken house.  Fred was the retired Marine who helped out with odd jobs around this area.  He lived a little ways up the mountain in a small cabin  and worked cheap.    Fred was a sad specimen as were many of the characters who lived on the mountain.  Not bad people, just sort of misfits.

“I will be in early tonight and we can catch up.  OK?  :)”  Eldon always signed off with the little smiley face and Meg always smiled when she saw it.  She tapped back an “OK” and headed for the kitchen.  She needed to make cookies for the luncheon on Tuesday for the AIDS clients.  Once a month she sponsored a social luncheon in the conference room at the ACS office in town.  AIDS Client Services had been active since 1987 when the epidemic was reaching new heights and help was not to be found.  Currently the office served 145 people, but only about 20 of them were active in social events.  The climate of the disease had changed a lot over the years and now it was more a chronic disease as opposed to  a death sentence as it had been back then.  It was much easier in this day and age to get on Disability Income.  Meg was glad that Kevin was working.  She could not picture him setting and waiting for the next shoe to drop.  He had put himself through college and he would put himself through life.

Meg gave Fred a quick call and made arrangements for him to come by later in the morning to check out the light in the chicken house.  That being taken care of she headed for the shower.  She loved a nice hot shower especially on a cool morning like today.  Most mornings were cool here in the foothills as were the evenings.  That was one of the great things about Colorado.  Kansas had been hot and humid.  True she had never needed chapstick in Kansas, but then she rarely used it now.   Just some times.  The humidity was very low in this area so the heat and the cold did not affect her like they had in Selda.  She suddenly thought of her sister and instead of the shower she picked up the phone.

“Eleanor!  How are you?  I have not talked to you since forever.”  Her younger sister laughed softly.

“Course not.  You just stay holed up out there and don’t talk to anyone.  When are you coming for a visit?  You know Betsy is getting married again, don’t you?”

“Well, how could I?  Nobody ever calls.  You know you could come out here and see me.  I always go to see you.”  And she suddenly remembered why she never called.  She was the outsider.  Mom had always been close to the 3 sisters.  When Dad had left and moved to New Jersey with his secretary, Eleanor, Betsy and Merilyn had turned their backs on him and taken care of Mom.  Meg had been in Montana than and saw no reason to return.  Mom was in good hands and apparently so was Dad.  Now Dad was dead and Mom was still not going to let it go.  Nor were the girls.

“OK, Ellie, lets try to get together for Christmas.  I would love to have you all out here.  Want to?”  Eleanor promised to talk to the sisters and Mom and let her know.  So Meg rang off and started the shower with warm water.  She stepped under the spray and turned the cold down a little.  As she relaxed under the hot water she reached for the soap.  Her hand stopped in mid air as she looked at the strange bar of soap in the tray.  Irish Spring?  She did not use Irish Spring.  She bought all her soap from a girl on eBay who made it in her kitchen.  It was all coordinated.  Tahitian Vanilla Soap, Tahitian Vanilla Body Butter and Tahitian Vanilla Lotion.  She had not bought any thing else in the last 3 years.  She suddenly felt very vulnerable and small in her nakedness.  She stepped quickly from the shower and wrapped in her lavender towel.  The towel smelled of Irish Spring and she discarded it in a heap of the floor.
 
What was going on here?  Who had been in her home?  Was she alone now?  The door bell chimed and she jumped.  Grabbing her robe she ran down the hall, pulling it on and belting it as she moved. She wrenched the door open and encountered Fred on the porch with his hat in his hands.  She must have been a sight because he stepped back and almost fell off the porch.  Suddenly she felt very foolish.

“Oh , Fred!  I am sorry!  I forgot you were coming.  Please excuse me.  I must look a mess.  Come in.”  She stepped back while opening the door wider.

“Oh, no, Miss.  I will just go check out the chicken house if that is alright with you.  If you got a problem I will get right on it.”  He hurried down the steps with a confused look on his face.  Meg sagged against the door jamb.  What a damn fool she must look like.  She left the door ajar in case Fred got back before her and hurried down the hall to dress.  She quickly grabbed a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, panties and white cotton socks.  In less than 10 minutes she was back at the door fully dressed and watching Fred ambling across the yard towards the house.

She met him at the door with 2 cups of coffee.  She handed his to him and motioned to the glider.  “Well, Fred.  What did you find?"

“Not a thing, Miss.  Light seems to be fine and I checked all the wires.  Must have just been a trick of your imagination or a gremlin.”  He sipped his coffee and looked toward the chicken house.  “I did notice though that when I walked by the side of the house on the way out there that you got a loose screen right there on your garage.”  He gestured and Meg’s eyes followed his finger.  Loose screen?  The whole bottom half of the screen hung loose.  How had that happened?  As she realized how it had happened  her stomach went ice cold with dread.  Some one had been in her home while she was in California!  Nothing was missing, she was sure.  She would check, but she knew suddenly that if the intruder had meant to do harm to anything he would not have taken a shower and dried on her towel.

In a very controlled voice she turned to Fred.  “Yes, Freddie, I want you to fix that, but let’s do this.  Go into town and get the screen and  while you are at it, I want to burglar proof this place.  See Mr. Watts at the Iron and Metal place and have something nice and sturdy installed.  You work with him and I would like to have it done sooner rather than later.”

Fred smiled.  This would be a job worth doing.  Put a little money in his pocket.  He liked money.  If he didn’t like it, why did he have it buried all over his property?  He pulled his tape measure off his belt and took a notebook and pencil out of his shirt pocket.  “Yes, mam!  I will get right on that!”  He whistled as he walked to the first window.

Installment 7

Him

He watched her pull into the garage.  He watched as the lights came on in the house and imagined the dogs running to meet her.  The idiot that was tending the place had locked them in their crates.  He knew that was not right.  When the overgrown boy had left he had gone into the house and let them out.  They had not even barked at him.  Was it because they liked him?  Or because he had let them out of their crates?  Or because he had given them a treat from the little jar on the shelf?  He had parked his jeep behind the chicken house.  Then realizing that the light in the chicken house shone on his fender he had turned it off.  The switch was located sensibly right inside the door with easy access.

Then he settled back in the seat to wait for her to come home.  Just to be sure she was safe.  He could have stayed at the airport and followed her, but this way was better.  This way she was coming home to him.

He watched her in the moonlight on the veranda.  He wondered what she was thinking.  Panic seized him as he realized she would know the light was not on in the chicken house.  What if she came to see what the problem was?  What if she found him there?  He was not ready for that.  When she turned to go into the house he thought it best to leave. He quickly turned the light back on and drove out of the drive in the dark.  As he reached the road he saw her returning to the veranda.
 
That was a very close call.  He must be careful from now on and not take any more chances.  He pulled the light switch on and the light flooded the road ahead of him.  He gave the Jeep more gas and began to hum a tune under his breathe.  A Garth Brooks tune.  The one about the lonely woman and the summer and the hot kid that got lucky with the older chick.  Then he laughed out loud.

Installment #6

Meg

Meg hurried across the lobby at Stapleton.  Getting her luggage out of this place was always such a hassle.  How could any place so modern and beautiful be so inept at the simple things in life?  As she watched for her plaid bag with the teal ribbons her mind drifted back to California.  Kevin was keeping something from her.  She could feel it.  He had avoided the Gay bars when they went out.  Did he do that for her or for him?  Since learning he was Gay and HIV she had educated herself on the life style and the disease.  It was quite a leap for her Bible Belt mentality to make, but she had done it.  Now she was even comfortable with the fact that he was different.  The HIV was a different matter, but his health was good and that was a relief.  He tried harder than most of the kids she dealt with at the HIV/AIDS center.  She stomped her foot as she watched her bag disappear around the carousel and chastised herself for being so preoccupied.  This time she was ready when it sailed into view and very soon she was on her way out the door with the little bag bobbing merrily behind her on it’s tiny wheels.

The drive home had been uneventful and 2 hours later when she pulled into her drive and hit the garage door opener she was relieved to see the lights on in the house.  She was sure Brice had left them on so she would not have to return to a dark house.  It was almost midnight so she decided not to go check on the chickens.  They were fine and she was tired.  Daisy and Elvira ran to meet her when she stepped into the kitchen. Icarus, the haughty cat watched the dogs with disdain.   Her time would come later, after the dogs were crated and asleep.

Meg glanced at the computer, but decided against that also.  She was tired and hungry and just wanted the solace of her own bed.  She got a glass of milk and 3 cookies and headed up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom.  Daisy stopped suddenly and looked up at Meg.  Meg froze in place.  What was it?  Nothing.  Nothing at all was different.  No sound.  Nothing out of place.  So what was it?  She willed herself to  relax.  She knew animals could sense fear and there was nothing to be afraid of here in her home, in the  hall way on the way to her bed.  She reached down and scratched Daisy behind her ears.  Then Elvira wanted to be petted and soon they all relaxed and the fear that she had felt disappeared.  She gave the dogs a treat from the jar inside the linen closet, opened their crates and then closed the doors behind them.  She never latched them, just closed them.  Their crates were their security.

As Meg got her night gown off the hook on the bathroom door she thought how nice it had been in California.  She knew she would need to think about a move before too much longer.  The farm was great and it was her home, but it did not make sense at all to live out here in the boon docks with the nearest neighbor almost a mile away.  She did not need this big 4 bedroom home and all the expense of the upkeep on it.  The acre of land was not enough to make a living with, but too much to landscape and keep up with the weeds.  And what were her goals?  What did she want to do with the rest of her life?  She undressed quickly and tossed her clothes in the hamper.  She pulled her  nightgown over her head and then walked to the French doors in her bedroom and  pulled them open and stepped out onto the veranda.  The moon was full and the view was clear.  She studied the chicken house for a moment and wondered at how boring a chickens life must be.  What would they think if she just went out and let them loose.  Would they leave?  Probably not.  More likely a fox would make a meal of some of them.  Best not to do that.

But something was not right.  She thought about the scene before her and could not quite put her finger on what it was.  She finally remembered her cookies and milk on the shelf in the hall where the dogs were sleeping and stepped quickly inside and into the hall to retrieve the snack.  Then back to the veranda to survey her kingdom.  As she drained the last swallow of milk from the glass she realized that what was not right before was now corrected.  The light had not been on in the chicken house before.  It was always on at night, but it had not been on and now it was.  How could that be?  There was no one here to turn it on, but it should have been on.  Oh, silly, it probably had some sort of short or something.  She would check it out tomorrow.  If the lights were playing games, the chickens would not lay.  And that was their job.  Everything had to stay on an even keel.

As she turned and walked back into the house she just missed the flash of moonlight on metal as the black  Jeep Cherokee turned onto the road and headed for town.

Installment #5

　

Kevin

Kevin breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the big American Airlines plane lift off headed West and then bank to the left and disappear in the Eastern sky. It had been great having mom here for the four days. It was especially nice to have her to run with early in the morning. And the fact that a piece of fruit, or a bowl of soup, or crackers and cheese could constitute a meal was even better. She understood his current passion for being a vegetarian and she could take meat or leave it. He had tried to show her a good time in hopes that she might sell the farm and move to California. They could afford a house if it were the two of them. And it did not have to be California. They could go back to Boston or back to Dallas or maybe up to Seattle. There was really nothing holding her in Colorado except memories. No family. Just the farm. Her sisters were in Kansas and he was just not comfortable with her being alone on the farm.

It was a lot of work and while there was room for a hired man and the chickens brought in enough to afford help, she still refused. It was good that she was occupied with her little store on eBay. He checked in from time to time and her merchandise seemed to move well. Her descriptions were written like she was talking to an old friend. Meg Paker was definitely a force to be reckoned with in the technology department.

Kevin pulled his little Subaru into a parking place in front of Your Little Pub. Guess it was alright to have a brew since it was almost noon. And he wanted to see Greg. He had not talked to him while mom was here. Not quite sure he was ready for mom to meet a male friend. It could be awkward.

When Greg caught sight of Kevin walking across the floor and up to the bar, he smiled and changed directions. He had been taking a tub of dishes to the kitchen but that could wait. He smiled shyly at Kevin. He had never met a man before that could turn his knees to jelly and his insides to butterflies, but this man did. Kevin was so sure. So aloof, but when he turned his brown eyes on him, Greg was done. He felt like the man looked into the very depths of his soul. Eyes of brown did that to him.

“Hey, Greg, how goes it?”

“Great Kevin. And how did your mom’s visit go? I guess she is gone now.”

“Yeah, just put her on the plane. It was all good. I should have had you over, but ..”

“I know. You don’t need to say any more. You have not met my mom either!” They both laughed uneasily. They had discussed the mother thing before and were both sure they needed more time to adjust and accept themselves as a couple before holding each other out to the family. Greg was more sure then Kevin, but then he had been out in San Francisco while Kevin had never held hands in public with a man. It would take some getting used to that was for sure.

“Hey, Kevin, I picked up that old Loretta Lynn movie with Sissie Spacek, you know Coal Miners Daughter. Don’t know how good of shape it is in. Got it at the junk store. Want to come by tonight and watch it? “ Kevin hesitated and sat his brew back on the bar.

“Can I bring the eats? You do know I don’t do the carnivore thing, don’t you?”

“Hey man, I was there way before you! That is no problem at all with me.”

“I’ll pick up a bottle of wine.” He turned back to his brew and thought to himself, “This just gets better all the time!” No one else would ever understand his deep love for country music. It just did not fit in with his lifestyle, but here was Greg understanding him so well. Not only understanding, but accepting him just as he was. Life indeed was good. Maybe Greg would get to meet his mom yet!

Installment #4...Him

He stepped quickly from the Jeep Cherokee and hurried across the parking lot and into the airport. He better not miss this flight or he would be setting right in her lap and that would never do. It was so much easier before 9-11. Then it was just catch a flight. Now there was all the security and everything to go through. Damned inconvenience was about all it was to him. He emptied his pockets into the tray and stepped into the machine that would show anything he had missed. Lot better then being groped, but there was a lot to be said for that also. He smiled to himself and the security guard smiled back at him. Damn fool. Like a man of his standing would ever give some one like her a second look. He belonged to Meg, heart and soul and very soon she would know it. As the big jet lifted off and the earth fell behind and below him, he closed his eyes and envisioned the perfect world that would soon be his. And for the briefest of moments he thought he felt her breathe on his cheek.

Installment #3 EBay

Meg moved the mouse over the eBay logo and double clicked.  While the computer called the program to the forefront and automatically did the things necessary to get her screen open she set a cup of water in the microwave and punched “Beverage”.  Technology.  Where would she be without it?  After Tom had died and the memorial service was behind her, life became very mundane and tedious.  She had friends, but she was the widow woman now.  The third wheel that just did not fit in.  Her friends tried to include her in the social life, but she was always the “extra” at the table.  They tried inviting a single man, but that was not the answer.  There did not seem to be an answer so she had drawn further inward and found herself taking quilting classes, or art classes and had even learned to weave.  Then she discovered eBay. 

EBay offered hours of entertaining buying.  Then she tried her hand at selling.  By opening a store for only $14.95 a month she could keep track and list and paypal collected her money and sent it to her bank when she wanted it.  She started out just listing a few things on the auction.  First was a quilt she had snagged at the local Goodwill for $15.00.  She had it appraised and found it to be worth $437.00.  She put it up for auction with a $49.00 opening bid.  The next morning she had her bid and 6 watchers.  Soon it was up to $179.00.  This was getting to be kind of exciting.  By the time the week was up she had 26 watchers and a high bid of $189.50.  It sold in the middle of the night for $198.50.  Meg’s Market was a success!  She began to list things at a Buy It Now price in her store with a Good Till Cancelled  time limit.  She enjoyed writing the descriptions and researching what they were worth.  She read everything eBay had to offer on how to have a successful store and put it all into practice.  Her minister turned over  a Lion and Lamb collection and this opened more doors.  She began to haunt the second hand stores,  the estate sales and garage sales.  Her friends put items on consignment and soon she was a power seller with 100% feed back.  EBay was becoming a lucrative venture.

She began visiting the chat rooms that eBay maintained for members.  Just now and then at first and only one or two.  But then she made friends.  This was now a social network.  Meg had been making jewelry and now she started listing that.  More sales.  It seemed in the golden world of the Internet she was quite the success.  Customers messaged her through eBay and asked her questions and visited and wished her well and bought her products.  One guy in particular caught her fancy in the chat room and she began looking forward to visiting him in the evening.  Redranger.  Just a little harmless flirting.  What could it hurt?  But then she checked her messages and found one from redr726584433.  That was how eBay disguised him to protect his identity.

“Meg, I would like to contact you outside the chat room.  I think we have a lot in common and I would love to know you better.  I need your email.”

She remembered how she had blushed as she hit the reply button and typed the email address.   The  marketlady@hotmail.com  .   That had been almost a year ago.  The emails came every day.  Sometimes many, many times a day.  They visited at all hours and laughed and Meg began to feel alive again.  His name was Eldon.  No last name, just Eldon.  He lived up North.  Way up North.  She had no intention of ever meeting him, so addresses and all that were pretty much a moot point.  He worked as an engineer in New York and did a lot of philanthropic work.  He spent 2 days a week in the local soup kitchen.  That was all she needed to know.  They were friends and Meg needed a friend she could talk to.  It was nice to discuss Kevin with someone.  He understood about Tommy and shared her loss as he was a widower.  She could vent to Eldon and he would tell her she was special.  She needed the strokes sometimes just to get through the day or the night.  And what better way than with a faceless stranger 2000 miles away.  She joked that this was the best kind of relationship because she could leave him in a box at night and not bother with him for days if she chose.  He was always kind because he had no reason not to be.  And of course money was never a problem.  The perfect man. 

As Summer turned to Fall and then to Winter Meg began to notice a pattern with Eldon.  It seemed that about every 4 weeks he would disappear for 6 or 7 days.  Nothing.  No forwards.  No “Meg?”  No nothing.  Dead silence on the mail page.  Then as suddenly as he disappeared he would pop back in her life.  No explanation.  Just the email with “Meg?”  and they resumed where they had left off. 
In June she decided to fly out to San Francisco and spend a few days with Kevin.  Getting away was not easy with the chickens needing daily care and the two dogs and the insane cat, but it could be worked out.  She called a friend of Kevin’s who still lived in town.  Sure, he would be happy to come out a couple times a day and gather the eggs and put them in the walkin cooler and play with the dogs and ignore the cat.  Daisy and Elvira were very easy dogs.  Couch potatoes to the max.  The cat, Icarus was another matter, but then anyone who has ever owned a cat knows that cats are not owned.
Meg sent the note to Eldon.  “Hey sweetie, I am going to San Francisco to spend a few days with Kevin.  I will holler when I get back.”  There was an immediate reply.

“Meg!  Do you think it is wise to be flying with all the terrorist stuff going on?  Can’t he come and see you?  Who will take care of the farm?  What about your eBay store?” 

This was very uncharacteristic of Eldon.  Actually a bit disturbing.  She replied, “I have not seen Kevin in almost a year and have never been to California.  I have a friend of his coming to watch the farm.  I will put the store on vacation.  I just don’t see the problem.”

“Meg, I just worry about you going off like that by yourself.  When are you leaving?  I want flight numbers and times.  I will pray for you.”

“Oh, Eldon, you are so sweet.  I will be fine and I am attaching my itinerary, so quit worrying.”  She hit the attach button, chose browse and clicked on the itinerary file, and then hit send.  There.  But it did feel good to know he would be worried about her.  Must care a little bit.  Who knows, maybe someday.

She heard no more from Eldon that day or the next.  The morning of her trip arrived and she emailed him a happy little note and heard nothing in return.  So she drove to Denver, parked in the long term parking and caught the jet to San Francisco.  This would be a glorious 4 days with Kevin.  Nothing could spoil it for her, and when she came out of the tunnel and say Kevin she ran to him.  Her son!  He was brown and healthy and seemed happy.  That was all she could hope for at this time.

The next few days were spent sight seeing and eating in Kevin’s favorite places.  She visited his job site and met his staff.  They all seemed pleasant enough.  He had taken a few days off, so they were bumming.  Meg had brought her jogging shoes and they ran on the trail behind his apartment each morning.  The last day they went to the Golden Gate Bridge.  The bridge glowed golden and the bay was calm and serene as they stood looking down from  the bluff.  “ I see why you love this place, son.   California is definitely different than Colorado or Montana.”

Meg suddenly shuddered.  Kevin looked startled.  “What was that all about?  Are you cold mom? “
She laughed. “No, it was just a rabbit ran across my grave, I guess.  That is what Momma always used to say.  I don’t know.”  Meg turned slowly and caught sight of a tall man getting into a silver SUV.  She had thought they were alone on the bluff, but apparently they were not.  As she and Kevin started down the incline to the parking lot she watched the silver Jeep Cherokee slowly leave the lot and turn onto the highway.   She wondered at the uneasy feeling in her chest, but dismissed it as a mother not wanting to leave her only son.  That was all.

Kevin

Kevin:

Kevin Jakson traced a raindrop down the inside of the window pane with a well manicured fingernail. It had been a rough day at work and he was homesick. He had left Massachusetts 5 months earlier to follow a dream to San Francisco and now he wondered if he had thought the whole thing completely through. Boston had been home for 2 years and he had a lot of friends there. San Francisco was proving to be harder than it should be. Of course before Boston, it had been Dallas and before that Denver, followed by Kansas City. It was not that he was a drifter, it was just that his jobs became boring after a time and a change of scenery was in order. But San Francisco should have been better. They had the largest gay population and programs and doctors to help him manage his HIV/AIDS, so why was he unhappy now.

Work was great and the staff he worked with in Alameda County were a bunch of caring people. The program was one he had wanted to oversee and was a challenge which helped bolster up his resume in case he ever decided to move to another hospital.

Then there was that little problem of home ownership. In Boston he had rented but he still had $150,000 in his escrow account from the sale of his home in Dallas. But this was California and that kind of money would not even make a good down payment on a home of any kind. So he contented him self with an apartment on the second floor of a complex 45 minutes from the hospital where he worked. The view was of the next row of apartments, but there was the little courtyard so it was not that bad. Usually any extra time would be spent on the trail running. Kevin liked to do at least 3 miles every day and the weekends were good for 7-10, but not in the rain. Rain was good for keeping him inside and being inside was depressing. It made him think too much. Like now.
His mind drifted back to Montana and a very lonely childhood. Mom tried, but mom did not understand the teenage boy struggling with his sexuality. Then along came Tommy. Tom was great, but by then he knew and there was no reason to talk it over with anyone. He was a freak who liked boys. Talk was cheap. Just how to keep mom from finding out now.
He remembered the move to Colorado. He tried to fit in at the high school, but found no acceptance until he joined the Drama Club. They were his kind of friends Eric and he really hit it off. He remembered the night of the Senior prom. He and Eric both had dates and after the dance they took them home. Then he and Eric had gone to the Nature Center to walk along the river. That was his first experience with a person, male or female and it was not an easy memory to recall.  They wereboth new at this, but they knew what they wanted.

So long ago and far away. Now there were only fond memories of Eric and there would never be any more made. Eric had died in 1997 while Kevin was away at College. No one had told him. No one had told him how he suffered with the Pneumonia that is common in AIDS cases. He learned from his mom on Christmas break that Eric had died of cancer or some such thing. “ Did you know him well, honey?”

“No, mom, not real well.” Only as well as I knew myself and loved him with every fiber of my being, because he was just like me. But those were thoughts best kept to himself. Or they were until he had gone in for regular testing a year later and learned that love was not the only thing he shared with Eric.

He left the trail of the rain drop down the window and reached up to trace the tracks of his own tears. Today was not a good day. Would there ever be another good day in his life?

Oh, Eric!

My first installment-Meg

*Meg

Meg Jakson stood very still in the gathering dusk as she watched the sun slowly slip below the Western rim of the Rockie Mountains. This little farm in the foothills had been very good to her. True it was lonely, but not really. Since Tommy had been killed in the avalanche 3 years ago, she had made new friends and kept the old ones. The acre here in "next to paradise" gave her security and enough to support her volunteer causes. What had begun as a hobby of a few chickens for eggs had grown into a chicken farm that put money in her pocket. Lot of dirty work, but she liked work.

Hard work and perseverance by both her and Tommy had actually been a blessing in disguise. Tommy had been an over the road trucker all of his life. When they had met in a truck stop in Montana back in 1990 it was the end of the road for both of them. Kevin was just 14 and almost past the need for a daddy, but he and Tommy had hit it off as buddies. Since Kevin had never known his father it seemed an ideal arrangement.

Meg sighed as she remembered the man she knew only as John Horner. She had been working in a cafe in Selda, Kansas at the time. Selda was her home and the only one she knew until John came along. She had graduated and gone to work at the Steak Shop instead of going to college as her parents had hoped. Waiting tables paid good in tips and while there were no benefits, there was a lot to be said for the social contacts and meals were free. She never tired of the banter with the customers and sometimes even accepted a date with one of the fellows. She had just celebrated her 19th birthday when John Horner walked into her life and turned it completely upside down.

Meg knew when the door opened and the tall stranger walked in that he was different from the local boys. And she was right! He was over 6 foot tall and walked with an air about him that made everyone's eyes follow him across the room and to the counter. He knew who he was and he knew what he wanted. Tonight he wanted food. As Meg handed him the menu their fingers touched briefly and their eyes met. As she stared into his brown eyes she felt a jolt to the bottom of her soul. This was fate as surely as fate had ever walked, and it had just walked into her life.

The next two days were spent in an agitated state as she waited for him to enter the Steak Shop again. And then, there he was. He gave her a fleeting smile as he settled at the counter. But tonight she had the dining room and Greta had the counter. Greta was married with kids at home and the stranger held no interest for her, but Meg could not help but admire him as he chatted with a couple at the counter and with the cook who was running the Charcoal that night. After an agonizing period of time he paid his bill and left without a backward glance. Meg was crushed. Then Greta handed her a napkin.

"Your sweetie pie left you this. Quite taken with you, I think. Asked a million questions, but you better watch him. Guys like that leave girls like us crying in the dust." Then she laughed and began wiping the counter.

Meg stared at the note in her hand. "Tomorrow-7:30. Ted's Roadhouse. Drinks and a dance."

There was no where to check yes or no. No telephone to call and say "Sorry, can't make it." Presumptuous bastard! Then she smiled softly to herself. No reason not to go. She was off the next two nights and this man gave her an itch she could not scratch. She would go, just out of idle curiosity was all. Just find out who this guy was.

And find out she did! John was a pipe fitter working on the construction at the new hospital on the east side of town. He was from Nebraska; twenty-six years old and still lived at home with mom and dad on the farm. He had a wonderful sense of humor and as he guided her to the dance floor and took her in his arms she knew that life as she knew it was over. And the last thing that went through her mind as drifted off to sleep in his bed at the Motel 6 that night was an old adage she had heard years ago…”Eyes of blue; a love that’s true. Eyes of brown will let you down.” But tonight was not a night for adages, it was a night for new beginnings.

Meg began to dread the day the hospital would be done as she knew John would leave, probably. Days were spent in work and nights were spent in his arms. They laughed, they loved and talked of future plans. It seemed they lived in an idyllic world and were not touched by the mundane. He talked little about his life in Nebraska and not at all about his plans when the job here was done. Two months and she was late on her period. She wondered briefly what John would say, but instinctively knew he would be happy. They could start their lives together. As she walked across the hotel lobby to pick up the room key a headline caught her eye. She stopped to study the front page. HOSPITAL NEARS COMPLETION.

Well, there it was. Things were nearing completion and her and John could make some decisions. She reached the desk and smiled at the clerk. Nebraska might be a welcome change from the humidity of Kansas.

“Room 609, please.” The clerk looked at her knowingly.

“Sorry, Meg, he checked out this morning. He is gone.”

“No! He is not.”

“Here. See for yourself.” The clerk smirked as he handed her the key.

Meg took the key which suddenly felt very big and very cold and started the ascent in the elevator. At room 609 she placed the key in the lock and turned it to the right. The door swung open into a big, cold, empty room. It smelled of Lysol and Tropical Flowers, but not of John Horner. There was nothing personal anywhere. No sign that John had ever been there. No warmth or laughter or anything that would show how much happiness she had known.

On feet of lead she approached the desk for the second time and handed the key to the clerk, Brian , she recalled suddenly.

“When did he check out?”

“Right after you left this morning. Hell bent on putting this town behind him, it seemed.”

“Did he leave a forwarding address?” She suddenly remembered all the things they had not discussed. “Where do you send the final bill?”

“Paid cash, Meg. His business here is done.” Brian smiled ruefully. “Sorry, I know you really had the hots for him, but maybe now somebody else will have a chance.” He winked playfully and Meg suddenly felt a sob welling up in her throat and turned and ran from the Motel 6 and into the bright sun outside.

Meg wiped a tear from her eye as she noticed it was dark now and the sun was only a bit or rose color on the far horizon. She had hoped against hope that John would come back, but he hadn’t. When she had inquired at the construction company about him, they had never heard of John Horner. Was she insane? Maybe, but the child growing inside of her was not a figment of her imagination. So she had taken her meager savings and moved to Montana to at least spare her mom and dad the humiliation of her transgressions. Kevin Lee Jakson was born in the county hospital and his bill was paid by the state of Montana. A welfare baby. But her baby.

And it was all water under the bridge because now she was a widow in Colorado and Kevin was a computer programmer and system analyst in San Francisco. And he was gay and he was HIV positive. He had his life and she had hers. She had Tommy’s ashes on the nightstand by her bed and a very long road to travel before she could ever reach the prize whatever it might be.

As Meg turned toward the house she once more heard a country western song play through her mind, “Brown Eyed Handsome Man“ She rarely thought of John Horner and the eyes of brown that let her down and she would not think of him tonight. Tonight she would remember her Tommy. Tommy, 5’9” and eyes of sky blue. Tommy with his laughter, and honesty and kindness and love that had brought her from the footloose girl in Montana to the settled, secure, kind, caring, compassionate, giving woman in Colorado; the woman who faced the West and had no desire to cross the mountain.

Preliminary screening.

I took my first two istallments to the craft fair and let 2 people read it.  The church secretary got through the first paragraph and decided she was way to tired to try reading.  Diane read it and thought it was great and is ready for the third installment.  I did have a friend who read it earlier tell me that my writing is "honest and earthy".  I was flattered beyond beleif by that statement because it came from a very wise man.
So, kids, be sure and check in here tomorrow.  I am thinking that I will get started on this and then pick up the pace, but who knows.  My brain may go completely blank and then where will we be?  Worst case scenario is this fizzles and fails.  Would not be my first rodeo so to speak.
See you tomorrow!

Well, I think I am about ready here.

I now have the first two installments ready and here is the plan.  I will publish one installment every 3 days.  This is going to be an adventure for all of us.  Now we all know that this site is pure fiction, but like life imitating art or vice versa, so there is some truth in fiction.  I will not tell you which parts are truth and which are pure imagination, but do know that both are going to come into play here at Chapter One.
I named this site Chapter One because I think it will be  a whole new beginning in my literary endeavors.  You know my Words of Wisdom are the truth as I see it.  By being truth I am limited by the boundaries of that truth.  But here in Chapter One I will be limited only by my imagination.  Now I never was one to remember the lies I told so when I write this little tale and you see that Meg was 55 years old on page one and 30 pages later she is 40 with a 35 year old son, just take that with a grain of salt.  I wrote all this stuff down before I started writing, but in typical Lou Mercer fashion I filed it away and hopefully I will remember where some day. 
In my world time is irrelevant.  Places are irrelevant.  The only things that really matter are emotions and eating.  Stuff like that and not necessarily in that order.  I have read a lot of Jackie Collins, so there may be some romance.  I worship Jean Auel and her Clan of the Cave Bear series so there may be a lot of herbs and homeopathic cures, or not.  And I fell on my knees at the feet of Steven King so the ending may surprise you.  But I do not want to give away my trade secrets here at 4:38 in the morning so I am just going to tell you to add me to your favorite blogs so you will be notified and look for my first rendering here in three days, which will be Monday, November 7.
And hang on; it is going to be a bumpy ride!