Original Work The Unwelcome Sign

Dusk was taking Afternoon's place when I left the bar and headed home. I stopped in at Jacob's house to check in. He was sitting on the couch reading a book. He favored me with a lopsided grin as I plopped down next to him.
“How's it going dude?”
“Pretty good Zed. I'm able to move around longer and longer each day. Doc seems happy with my progress.”
I gave him a fist bump at the good news. “Great! I sure miss having you around.”
“Yeah, you're too old to be running your own errands.” he kidded.
“You ain't lying.” I grimaced as I propped my aching feet up on the coffee table in front of the couch. “So whatcha reading”
He lifted the book up from where it had been resting on his lap so I could see the cover.
“Fiona picked it out from my dad's bookcase when I asked for something to read.”
My eyebrows raised when I saw the title. “The Prince” was an interesting choice for a convalescent. “How you liking it?”
He set the book back down on his blanket covered lap. “I don't know. Not really what I was looking for, you know? I mean, it's interesting and all, but it's not exactly light reading.”
I nodded my understanding. He looked at me intently and then over his shoulder to see who else was around. “I'm not sure why she picked this one for me, but I think she had a specific reason.”
“I suspect you're right. Won't hurt you to read it, there are some good insights and lots of thought provoking material. But I'll bring you something else to read.”
“It's good to read to expand your mind, but sometimes you just want some mindless entertainment.”
“Especially when you don't feel well. I get it. You need something you don't need to work at, that will provide some escape. You still having some pain?”
He shifted himself carefully, using his arms, and settled back down, his face tight. “Yeah, a bit. Nothing I can't handle.”
“It's worse at night, isn't it?
Jacob's head bobbed in agreement.
“Hey, listen, I gotta run. I'll be back in a few minutes to drop off a different book, but I've got a couple of things I need to do before I turn in.”
I took my leave and completed my journey home. The pups greeted me in the yard, rubbing against me to welcome me back to my pack, to let me know that I was missed, and to get some loving in return.
I found Sadie sitting on the porch, reading a plant book by the light of an LED headlamp. I bent down and gave her a quick kiss.
“Wanna go to the bar for a drink?”
That startled her and she thought for a moment, her mind going through the memory banks trying to find something to put together with my question.
“There's a bar? What bar?”
I told her about my afternoon, giving her a run down on my conversations with the preacher and the barkeep.
“Give me a few minutes to get ready.”
“Sure. I need a few minutes too.”
She went inside and I went downstairs to the storage area. Opening the ammo safe I selected two boxes of .38 Special. Closing the safe back up, I went to the shelf where we keep liquor and selected a bottle of vodka and another of rum.
Back upstairs I went to my bookcase and scanned the spines of the books. “Mysterious Island” by Jules Verne popped out at me. I pulled it out and looked at the cover of an old friend. I'd read the story of Civil War castaways several times over the years, starting in the sixth grade. Certainly more enjoyable than some centuries old tome about political machinations.
Sadie had gussied up a bit, throwing on a nice outfit, her rifle making a somewhat odd accessory. We headed out the door and made a quick stop back at Jacob's. Fiona was sitting on the couch next to him. We exchanged curt greetings. I handed Jacob the book. He took one look at it and put “The Prince” aside and dug right in to “Mysterious Island”, which earned me a sour look from his girl friend.
Too bad. I was getting pretty sick of her by this point. If it weren't for Jake, I'd be handling her differently.
Our next stop was Deacon Smith. He opened the door to my knock and smiled broadly when I stuffed two boxes of shells in his hands. He threatened to pay me, but I'm not easily frightened. I waved off his offer and bid him good night.
Jarvis and Marvelyn were still at the table when we arrived at the bar. Business had picked up along with the noise level. When we got to them, I introduced Sadie, whom they were genuinely pleased to meet. I'm sure they knew who she was, and what she'd done. It was interesting to note that it didn't seem to matter. Or, if it did, it did so in a positive manner.
After the introductions, Jarvis told us to go on in. Instead I presented the two bottles of liquor.
“What are these worth in tokens?”
Marvelyn took each in turn, checked to make sure the seal was intact, and looked the labels over.
“Good stuff, and unopened.” she told Jarvis. He reached into his metal cash box, grabbed a handful of coins and counted them out, thumbing them one by one on to the table. He stopped at fifty, which was a substantial pile.
“Twenty five's the going rate?”
“For fifths of unopened, quality booze, yup.”
“You'll buy opened bottles?”
“Sure, but we have to be careful, that it hasn't been watered or adulterated. It pays a lot less, but yeah, we'll consider it.”
I nodded and started scooping up tokens and filling my pockets. I gave a handful to Sadie, who looked at them, then at me, and back to the coins. She held one up for closer inspection.”
“Was this your idea?” she asked me.
“No ma'am. He didn't no nothing about it” Marvelyn came to my rescue.
I held up my hand in surrender and shrugged my shoulders. “I'm kinda embarrassed about it.”
“Kinda flattered too, I'll bet”
“Well, yeah...”
Jarvis tried to head things off and steer the conversation in another direction. “You know you don't need those here, right? You get to drink free. Ms. Sadie too.”
“We pay our way. It's only fair.” I reiterated my earlier point.
“That's very kind of you, Jarvis, we appreciate the offer, but Zed is right. If we can't afford something, we don't buy it. We don't like to owe anyone.”
“But you wouldn't owe us. It's free. Well not free, but you, know, you've earned it by helping us out.”
“You've more than paid that back with what you've done here. How many people you employing?”
“Six right now. Course four them's family.”
“And how much work have you given out to others like carpenters and the like?”
“A few I suppose”
“There ya go. Any debt you think you might have had is paid in full.”
I smiled to end the argument and took Sadie's elbow and guided her to the door. A knock, a look, and we were in.
“So what are you going to do with all those coins?” Sadie asked. We were sitting at a table with our drinks. “We're not really bar type people. And why so many of them? Was it a good idea to give away two of our stock bottles?”
“I didn't give them away. It was a currency exchange. And I'm going to spread them around. It'll drive business here directly, and I think it will encourage business elsewhere as people trade these for other things they want more than a drink in a bar.”
“Smart. You're right. It will get people moving, getting creative on what they can do to earn money that they can actually spend.”
“Thanks. See? I did listen to some of what you told me about business.” We the comfortable grins born from a long running joke shared between friends.
A domino being slapped down on a table top with extra zeal broke the spell and directed our attention to the game room.
Sadie looked at me. “You thinking what I'm thinking?”
“Yup. Sure am.”
“If we ever run into hard times, we could set up a blackjack table.”
“I think Mr. Colvin would give us a table for a reasonable cut.”
“And it would be a good draw for him, bringing in more customers.”
“True. But what are the chances that we'll run into hard times?” I tried to keep a straight face as I held Sadie's gaze. We both lost it at the same time, earning us a strange look from the waitress who brought us our next round. I reached into a bulging and pulled out a token and tossed it on her tray. “Thanks darlin'. Keep 'em coming.”
“Zed!” Sadie admonished. “You know your limit is two!”
I crushed the Coke can in my left fist and set it, rocking, on the table, and winked at the waitress. “Don't listen to her. I'm not even close to my limit.”
She left, shaking her head, not sure if we were joking or not. But we were tipping well, so she figured she'd indulge the crazy couple at the corner table.

 

Thank you Sir

 

Nice.

Thanks Zed.

 

Be needing ta skin that toad out and salt his/its hide so it don be spoiled and sheet ;-)

 

Nice shot glass of words for the story, but one boiler maker is not enough to get high on. "Keep them coming" how about a doubble?

 

Ize be wantin dat toad's scrotum sack too, just salt it down and send it on…be makin de change purse out of dat one, hang it around my neck to keep de Zeds in! Could use the scalp for a scrub rag so send it on with the hide too…you just needs de skull for fence ornament;-)

About this money thing…I'm thinking the old Vikings had the right idea…engraved a message on the face of a hammer and then used it to strike a continuing coinage on a piece of copper wire (perhaps other metals as well) and to make change the user merely broke off one of the sections bearing the strike/image…worked back then so it would likely work today. (Might be hard to keep a bunch of it in that toads tanned scrotum coin purse though…unless they were broke up!) But why not, he's just spare change anyway!

 

After an hour or so of enjoying the atmosphere and knocking back the Cokes, Sadie and I left and headed for home. We were still some distance away when we saw someone jogging towards us, flashlight beam bouncing on the pavement ahead of them.
As they neared they played the light on us quickly and then politely removed it.
“Zed, Sadie!” It was Daniels behind the light.
“What's up?”
“We're getting radio reports from Four Corners. There's been an attack?”
We all started moving towards Jacob's house.
“What kind of an attack? Anyone hurt?” I got out between breaths.
“I'm not sure. It's over now. I ran to get you as soon as I heard. Wilford's monitoring.”
We saved our breath so we could move faster. A couple of minutes later we arrived and wasted no time going inside to the corner that contained the radio. Wil was just finishing transmitting.
“Whatcha got?” I inquired
“There was a bit of action at Four Corners. I've got Stan on the radio. You want to talk to him?”
I nodded and he stood so I could take his place. I sat and picked up the radio.
“Sierra 6, This is Zebra 6, sitrep?”
“A couple of cars tried to come up Solberg Mountain road. The OP stopped them. Wasn't much of a fight. Brief exchange of fire and they turned around and left, over”
“Any injuries?”
“None on our side. Couple of possibles on the other side, over.”
“Identity of the attackers?”
“Not sure. They didn't get out of their cars. Young black males, but other than that, not sure.”
“When did this happen?”
“Bout an hour and half ago or so. Just before dark.”
“OP still in place?”
“Yes. We heard the shooting so I took the rest of my squad down there, but it was over by the time we arrived. I left the squad there and came back here to radio in.”
“Smart. Tell the OP I said “good job”.”
“Will do.”
“Sierra, do you think this was an isolated incident?”
“Hard to say. Might just have been looters but could also be gang bangers checking us out. Orders?”
“Hold one. I'll get right back to you.”

I set the radio down, pushed the chair back and pivoted it to look at the others. A small group had gathered and their faces ran from grim and concerned to stolid and determined.
I rubbed my hand over my face and back through my hair, letting out the breath I'd been holding, replacing it with a deep one.
“You think it's an attack?” Wilford wondered.
“Hard to say. Could be a couple of different things.” Sadie replied
“What are you going to do about it?” Doc Shoemacher had joined us from his treatment room.
“It's late and it's dark, I don't think anything else will happen tonight. We can reasses in the morning” Sadie wasn't one prone to over reacting.”

“I'll alert Lavell, Lyle, and Juice to keep us at fifty percent alert and to make sure all of our people are ready to go within five minutes. If something happens we can take some vehicles and reinforce them in less than ten minutes.”

I picked up the radio. “Sierra this is Zebra. You copy?”
“This is Six, Zebra.”
“Keep your people at the OP over night. If you get hit again, hit back and fall back to Four Corners. We can reinforce you within twenty minutes of a call. Keep your people at fifty percent alert overnight. Check in with us every hour on the hour. How copy?”
“Understood. Fifty percent alert at the OP, hourly radio checks. Will we be relieved in the morning?”
“Yes. We'll keep to the normal rotation unless something changes.”
“Roger that. Sierra out.”
“Take good care Sierra. Zebra out.”

“Do you think I'm under-reacting?” Sadie and I lay in bed. I was trying to relax enough to get some sleep that I figured would be good to have for tomorrow.
“Nope. I think it was just right. Otherwise I would have said something.”
“I hope you wouldn't have told me I was messing up in front of the others.” I gave her a lopsided grin.
“And undermine your authoritay?” She grinned back. “No. I think what you did is correct. Over reacting has it's own problems and you don't want to be that guy. You took reasoned and reasonable measures that are proportional. Either way this goes, you've positioned us well.”

That helped. Sadie wasn't one to sugar coat things or to just go along. If she thought something was wrong, she'd speak out. Knowing that she agreed with my assessment and response allowed me to relax. I played 'what if' in my head for a much shorter time than I expected before I dropped off to sleep.







217993 Monday Day 26


I awoke to a dreary overcast day. The wind was still with a steady, soaking rain coming down. It was a good day to be a plant. The perfect day to stay cuddled up safe and dry in bed.
I needed to get going though, worried about what might have happened overnight, so I dragged myself out of bed and got ready for the day. After bringing Sadie her french press in bed, I hung out with the dogs for a few minutes, standing in the open door, looking at the wet day outside. I don't know about the dogs, but I like a rainy day. When I'm in a dry place, looking out. Being out in it is another matter.
Out in the rain, everything is just a little bit more difficult.

I pulled a poncho over my head, settled it on my shoulders, set my hat on my head and headed off to HQ. It wasn't long before my pants from the calves down were soaked through, one of the downsides of ponchos. A minute later I was on Jacob's porch.
I took off my poncho and left it dripping on the porch before entering. Inside I found the normal early morning scene. A few people were moving around, getting the day started.
I moved to the communications area and found Daniels there.
“Morning” I greeted.
“Good morning, Zed” He looked tired.
“What's happening? You hear anything from Sierra?”
He nodded. “They've been calling in every hour”
“You on the radio all night?”
“Yeah. Took over from Wilford at eleven. Sierra's done their radio checks, but they didn't have anything to report.”
“Did the relief go out?”
“Lyle stopped in just before his team left. They took off before first light. I don't think any of them slept well and figured they should go ahead and get out there.”
“Anything from our western OP?” I referenced the one on King's Mountain road, the only thing between us and trouble from the west.
“Haven't heard anything one way or the other. Far as I know, everything's OK.”

We were interrupted by boots stomping on the porch. A moment later Lavell walked in.
“Morning Boss, Daniels”
“Morning Lavell. What's happening?”
“You tell me.”
“You know as much as I do at this point. I want to debrief Stan when he gets back but that won't be for another couple hours.”
“Waiting's a bitch.”
“Sure is. So, how we looking on the Western OP?”
“Fine. We're keeping it continually manned by two people. It's been quiet so far.”
“What do you think about doubling up? Sending another pair of people up there?”
“Makes sense I guess. Hard to keep that many people operational though. It was one thing when being in the guard forces was the only thing that put food on the table. But more and more people are coming up with other ways of making a living, of getting by and their security work is interfering with it.”

Great. Things were changing, with a new dynamic that I'd have to adapt to. Just what I needed. I mentally shook myself. I should be happy at this development. Yes it meant more mental work on my part, but it also meant that what we'd done so far was successful.

“Ok, I get that. Let the people know that I appreciate their sacrifice. I'll do it myself when I get a chance, but mention it to them in the meantime.”
Lavell opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, the radio came to life.

“HQ, this is Sierra. Do you read?”
Daniels was at the desk and he looked at me. I waved for him to answer.
“Sierra, this is Hq. We read you fine. What's up?”
“We were just hit again. Say again, the OP was attacked again this morning.”

I moved to the table and took the mike from Daniels. “Is the attack still going on?”
“No Zebra, attack ended about fifteen minutes ago.”
“Any casualties?” I asked, cringing to hear the answer.
“Nothing serious on our side. We killed and wounded several of the attackers. Hard to know exact numbers because they pulled as many as they could back with them when they retreated.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good job. Hang tight, Lima Team should be there momentarily.”
“Good to know. We can use the break. By the way, we did manage to take two prisoners. They were wounded that got left behind.”

That changed things.
“Very Cool. Will be on site myself in twenty. Stabilize the prisoners until we get there. Tell your people they'll have a ride home.”
“They'll be happy to hear it.”
“Zebra Six out.”

I turned to Lavell. “I'm going to run out there. Get Frank and Virgil to meet me here in fifteen minutes.” Being newcomers, they'd been slotted to my team, which mostly consisted of the headquarters personnel.
“You want me to come with?”
“I'd love to have you, but I need you here.”

He nodded his understanding and turned to leave, pausing only long enough to put his poncho on before heading down to the condos where Frank and Virgil were staying with their families.

I fought to shrug into my poncho as I ran to Dr. Shoemacher's house. I pounded on the door until Doc's disheveled face appeared in the crack of the partially opened door.
“Zed? What's up? What's the matter?”
“Get dressed and grab your gear. I need to keep a couple of prisoners alive.”

 

Hmmm…be thinking de water cure here, maybe a pedicure with manicure potential…all to the singing of wild birds and tom cats ;-)

 

Back in action...

 

Glad to see another update. Thanks

 

"authoritay" I see what you did there.

 

Yeah, Sadie can be a smart ass...

 

Thank you for that great post...more please!

 

"The refusal of King George III to allow the colonies to operate an honest money system, which freed the ordinary man from the clutches of the money manipulators was probably the prime cause of the revolution."
-Benjamin Franklin

"Honest Money".
Thanks Zen, for planting this idea in the minds of readers.

But, more interesting, you now have a metal worker... who can make, forge, smelt, smith and possibly, manufacture weapons or at least parts... now you just need to learn to make powder from chicken manure and charcoal...

 

Yep, folks will run out of things a little at a time…might just have to start making soap…out of toad lard and such, make lye out of ash from fires and start saving the gold teeth in the heads of the toads they kill…this business of letting the enemy retrieve their dead…for the same reason…must be stopped…and besides…we be need de heads for fence post ornaments ;-)

Best start hoarding that 'long pig' lard and old grease to burn in slut lamps…times be changing fast when you just can't get stuff…and forget making chicken dreck gun powder…where you gonna get all the extra sulfur? An, be saving that 'chamber lie' for important things…the g-d of chemistry demands it. ;-)

 

I was getting the shakes, of another 1000 or two words!

 

That fat toad in the basement is looking more and more like Michael Brown… ;-)

 

Well, over the last while, I have shifted my opinion based on external information, and years of learning about people.
I have shifted from; Keith is completely OCD about this fat fuk(in a humorous way), to; considering what's going on in the world, the country, and how it appears this may play out, racism may be the only survival mechanism. Not, that I 'hate' any race, never have... however, seeing that WAY too many of them hate 'me', for something I've never done, is a factor of objective reality to be considered.
Because the truth is, this story is so good because it is fundamentally based on reality, and true human behavior. It is a good story because this is how people would really behave, I have seen it in a simple SHTF like a hurricane/flood of the century situation, the truth behind a persons character comes out... from good folks helping out, to hiding out, to looting and stealing live stock. I almost got in a firefight over 5 gallons of gas, (if I wasn't carrying openly I shudder to think...), the town posted a cop at the gas stations full time.
It wasn't mostly white folks stalking the streets of town, stealing, or trying to steal gas...
Animals, that are rabid, have only one solution.
If the whole pack is rabid, need bigger teeth than they got...

So yeah... heads on poles... is the only thing they'll understand.

 

Thank You. Is anything happening out side the Island in the " Other World " outside Zed's Caribbean?

 

At the end of the War of Northern Agression my mom's family owned over 600 slaves, that at a time when a grown male sold between $1,600.00 and $2,000.00 @ They all took the family name, Mouton, and today in LA their progeny is many…the notion that such valuable property could be mistreated is a malicious lie. The very few that chimped out and went wild were dealt with…keeping in mind that 'they' were someone's property. No guilt here, but if I'd known what a problem it would become…I'm sure we would have picked our own damned cotton ;-)O'h, forgot to mention, during this era a white skilled tradesman, carpenter, etc., earned $.25 per day.

At 75 years old, I've seen a bit…and know a bit. It breaks my heart to see what is happening to our country because I love people, wanted to be an anthropologist when I was a kid…until I found out that ditch diggers made more money doing the same work and without the bother of an education.

As for big city violence, I've seen more than my share. I was born near Trumann, Arkansas, on a farm without any, ANY, modern conveniences…doctor had to ride on a tractor the last 20 miles getting to the farm…later I grew up in Beverly Hills, CA, and have been on a whirlwind tour of the world ever since; yes, I've seen the dark side…and the US Army side, and more riots, including race riots, that I care to recall…I've seen so many men murdered that I lost count after 50…and quit bothering with the memories many years later. I'll stop there, this is not about my story and I'm having great fun with the read…keep her rolling and I'll buy the book too when she comes into print.