Installment #14

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, 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

Installment #13

Fred


Fred frowned as he hung up the phone. Damn pesky
woman. What was she so afraid of anyway? If anybody was
small enough to get in that doggie door, they were sure as hell
too little to hurt anybody 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 when he
was very young. 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
Fredric 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, but 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. His Momma was so
innocent. She asked for so little, just to be happy. 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

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 rose. 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 knapsack 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
all right. 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

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 somewhere 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 never
had forgotten about how Marybeth had just walked away and
never 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 the 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

Installment #10

Kevin/Meg

Kevin stopped on the trail and fished the cell phone out
of his pocket. M o m . “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 someone 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.