Story Ava (Complete)
- Thread starter Kathy in FL
- Start date
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you very much.
Chapter 24
“It didn’t make you sick at all?” Thibaut asked for the dozenth time.
“No. Stop asking stupid questions. I told you I like to eat as much as the next person. If that means cleaning and gutting things to fill my belly with then so be it. Now leave off, I’m trying to watch Mr. Julius skin that rabbit and you’re getting in my way.”
I suppose people are just going to think I’m weird … for a girl. It isn’t the first, it won’t be the last. Doesn’t really matter one way or the other. It was a good day and I had fun … mostly. I’d gotten very, very lucky and I knew it. And the luck was mostly because of Sarge. The guy knows his stuff and took us away from the rest of the group who, meaning to or not, ran several animals towards us.
Thibaut was still grousing. “Ain’t no way you got two bucks your first time out. Em had to have taken them and he’s just saying you did it so he can keep all his tags.”
I’d had enough. Being a lowly feeemale was one thing, putting up with his pranks and BS I was willing to brush off as well, but being called a liar was something else completely. I turned, swept Thibaut’s feet from under him and pushed at the same time sending him backwards into some nasty swamp water. He comes up spitting but fast and getting set to punch at me which told me he was no stranger to fighting. But neither was I, for reasons obvious and not. When he came at me he made it almost too easy to use a shoulder throw but this time I made sure he landed hard enough to knock the wind out of him, and before he could get up I had his arm in a lock and my boot on his throat.
“Knock it off,” I told him. “You called me a liar. I’m not fond of that. You stop acting like a knothead and this is over with.”
The other men were all blinking like they had been caught off guard at how fast things had happened and weren’t sure how to handle it. It was that feeemale thing again that left them not knowing what to do or say.
Or should I say most of them didn’t. “Ava!”
“Sarge, he’s been at me all freakin’ day. Including that damn snake. I’m not taking any more.”
“Turn him loose I say.”
“In a sec. I want to make good and sure he understands just how much I’m not taking it anymore.” To Thibaut I said, “You a stupid boy for not thinking about who you might be turning into an enemy. You got any idea what I had to do to make it from Florida to here on my own? You think about that. You also think about the fact that I didn’t hesitate, that I knew I could do it. And now I’m here and I’m just done putting up with crap that tries to get in my way. You hear what I’m saying?”
“Ava I said turn him loose. He ain’t worth the trouble.”
“I say he is. He disrespected you. Disrespected Mr. Julius. And disrespected some of the other men here. That shouldn’t be allowed to pass. You all let me come hunting. I know it was just because of the boat but you still let me. But if I don’t stop him now, he’s just going to get worse and worse and then a real fight is gonna have to happen. I’m trying to end this before blood gets spilled.”
In frustration Sarge snapped, “Dammit boy, you see what you started. I oughta let her tear your ass up. I’ve seen her fight. She ain’t got no back up in her. And stubborn as a damn mule.”
That’s when a big man that I didn’t recognize and hadn’t seen before came on the scene. “Don’t stop her Em. I been warning that boy one o’ these days he was gonna fun himself into a world o’ hurt. I reckon Henley’s niece just may be the one time too many he’s messed around.”
“Dad!”
“Don’t come calling out to me Tib. You was warned. Was Henley still with us you’d probably already be gator chow.”
Thibaut looks at me and then says the dumbest thing on the planet. “I was just jokin’. No need to take it so damn serious.”
Knowing it was over with I turned loose and step back. “Yeah, yeah. It’s all fun and games until someone gets their eye poked out. Stop being a pain in the butt. Mr. Julius and the others don’t need that crap and neither do I. Instead of instigating we could work together. Make things easier on both of us. You got a fine way with a snare. I wouldn’t mind seeing what knots you use …” I caught a look in his eyes and added, “But I’ll knot your head if what is in your mouth actually falls out.”
In no time Thibaut is snickering and it is like the fight never happened as I help him up. It’s like he is about five years younger than his age for some reason and I’m having to play big sister. Gawd I’ve done that enough in this life to be just plain sick of it but I’ll admit it isn’t a completely awful thing to have to be considered to some boxes people have wanted to shove me into.
Everyone goes back to what they were doing though some of them looked like they wanted to take a swat at us. Don’t blame them, just glad none of them followed through with it. Sarge shakes his head in aggravation and I know there is a discussion gonna be had at some point in the near future. The big man I gave a wide berth to as I hadn’t taken his measure just yet.
It only takes an hour more and everyone is packed up and ready to go. Thibaut runs over while I’m getting in Sarge’s truck and asks, “You wanna come next hunt?”
“Depends if Aunt Orélie needs me. Check with Sarge … I mean Em (he’d already put the kibosh on me calling him Mr. Em) … and maybe we can work something out. Only this time, no damn snakes.” Thibaut laughs but nods and takes off. He throws back one last comment about me screaming like a girl and I come real close to reminding him that I am a girl. I think he’s been dropped on his head more than a few times in this life, from birth onwards. It is the only explanation for that level of stupidity.
We were half-way back to the checkpoint when Sarge thinks he is gently about to raise a certain subject. I forestall him by saying, “He is a gold-plated knothead. Sure, he’s got blue eyes and wavy hair that all the girls probably go goo-goo over but I’m not them. And if it comes up again I’ll put him down again.”
“Not that I’m not glad to hear it but …”
Trying to show him I’m serious and not just fooling I say, “Sarge I ignored him as long as I could, but I’ve met his type before. If I hadn’t stood up for myself, eventually he would have pushed me too far and the fight it caused …” I shook my head. “Words, yeah, most of the time they can be ignored. Next though he would have been touching me when his words and pranks didn’t get the desired reaction and attention he was looking for. I’ve been pinched in places no one should have to accept. By both boys and men … and a few women if you must know. I’ve had some try to do more than that. And on a couple of memorable occasions I almost wasn’t able to get away when their ‘attention-seeking’ got out of hand. Thibaut strikes me as the kind that doesn’t know when to stop, and blind about when his fun and games aren’t seen as fun and games by other people. The only way not to be his prey is to teach him I’ve got big, sharp, and pointy teeth and will bite. Hopefully he’ll leave me alone now … or at least leave me alone about that stuff.”
“Hmm. You never said you’d had that kind of trouble.”
I could have been insulted but was smart enough to know it wasn’t worth the energy. Instead I told him, “Well it isn’t something you bring up in casual conversation is it. But unless you are going to hide away in a convent or monastery everyone eventually runs into it in some form or another, even if it is just casually. I’ve dealt with both kinds from both sides of the coin. I don’t have a lot that can be said about me but one thing anyone can say is I don’t lie, and I won’t be pushed. Try it and you’re going to pull back a nubbin.”
“You going to make a habit of this?”
“You mean fighting? Heck no. I already explained eleventy dozen times that I don’t want trouble and go out of my way to avoid it. Just sometimes you can’t avoid it. But … er … do me a favor and not mention this where Zeb hears about it.”
Like he’d caught me out he says, “So there is something there.”
I rolled my eyes and made sure he could see me do it. “Not the something you are thinking. He’s a friend. Like a lifelong friend. I don’t want him trying to figure out how to take sides in something that is none of his business.”
“I thought you said he was a friend.”
“He is. And I’m his friend. And you don’t go dragging your friends into things that is going to get them in trouble. I’m thinking fighting with a local family … who also happens to be family to the lady that is hosting your superior officer … would definitely create trouble. And I’ve already dealt with it. Unless Brainless’ father is going to expect something from me.”
“Hubert? Nah Cher. He thought it a good joke once he realized you really didn’t want to hurt Thibaut, just put him off your scent.”
It was a pretty outrageous remark. “Are … you … serious? You did not just say that.”
He chuckled. “Sure did Cher. As did Hubert. And as to that … Hubert is the real deal so you watch out. He works the oil rigs. I once saw him break a gator with his bare hands that came after Fabrice when he was a toddler. Don’t get on his bad side.”
“I don’t care to get on any of his sides, good or bad. Especially not someone that makes it seem like I’m an animal in heat.”
“Get down outta the trees, doubt you’ll see him much. He’s only around a couple times during a season. He and his kids’ mother are divorced, and he can’t stand the woman for more than a few minutes at a time. Neither can I for that matter. He blames her for the way Serafine has turned out. When he’s in town he stays in a room he keeps at his mother’s cousin, who just so happens to be Julius’ sister. Her forename is Adelle but mostly people call her Momma LeBlanc. She’s a crazy ol’ Rougarou at certain times but ain’t a bad person overall so long as you don’t mess with her family. She and Aunt Orélie used to be really tight as girls, sometimes they still share work. You’ll probably meet her this week ‘cause she comes by to help when there’s a lot of food to put by.” I made a face at hearing the next episode of the Cajun soap opera Comme les Tours D'Estomac and he finally relaxed and gave a belly laugh and I knew he’d let the rest of it go.
We were both tired and dirty when we pulled up to the Big House but there was still work to be done though I would have given a lot to be able to go off and think about the day and get some perspective. The reason why Mr. Hubert showed up when he did was because he had trade goods he wanted to barter. He had his limit on Coastal fish, blue crab, and shrimp and wanted something more local and fresh at home. He traded such things for his room and board. We didn’t get much of the fish except for some mullet and seatrout but we traded one of the bucks I brought down for half his take of blue crab (half of the twelve dozen he had on hand) and all the shrimp (fifty pounds). While trading was going on I heard about a local farmer’s market and I was wondering how that might figure into making some extra money. My Jill-of-All-Trades job is good and I’m not looking to give it up, but it never hurts to have something in the pipeline just in case.
When Aunt Orélie saw what we brought her she was happy enough to kiss me on the cheek and then flap her apron at me and tell me to go wash the stink off before coming in the house. My suspicions were up however when I saw Fabrice helping to cart everything in (the other buck went off to the processor who will call Sarge in a couple of days to come get the cuts he’d asked for). I’d never met a kid who seemed to light up like a calculator when he was counting groceries. It gave me ideas about why that might be so when he is normally as lazy as a hound that lays its head down to bark. In addition to the crabs and shrimp (and the deer that will be coming later), there was freshwater fish like bass, crappie, bowfin, buffalo fish, shad, and catfish. There were also birds like ducks, quail, doves, and pheasants.
The other biggie though were two feral hogs that Sarge and I had nearly been treed by before he got off shots with the right caliber to take them down. A pair of rangers were out patrolling for poachers and tried to shake us down but I’d remembered to bring all the paperwork I had and when they found out I was Uncle Henley’s niece they acted really civil, even telling me they were sorry for my loss. I nodded but let Sarge do the talking. It still feels weird to have people know my family more than I did.
The rangers took the hogs off but gave us receipts so we could come get them if they didn’t have some disease that was being checked for. We didn’t tell anyone about those hogs because Sarge said they were “illegal quadrupeds” and were basically free to anyone who could take them … and he didn’t necessarily want to share them with the others who were likely taking their own stuff they didn’t intend on sharing out.
And speaking of suspicion didn’t Fabrice act a little surprised to find that the coolers and pantries had new locks on them. “Why?” he demanded. “You gonna get in trouble. Auntie won’t like it.”
“Aunt Orélie is who these locks are for. There are a lot of strangers coming in and out of the house and plenty more coming in the future. No need to put you and her at risk by making this expensive stuff too easy to get to. Now things can’t just grow legs and walk off. Everything will be accounted for, just like the lawyers like. I’ve got cameras and alarms in there too so if someone just so happens to break in, the cameras will take a picture of whoever it might be and the alarms will wake everyone up.”
With a knowing look he said, “Cameras and alarms won’t work at night when there’s no ‘lectric.”
“They’re game cameras and don’t need electric. And the alarms are battery operated. So you don’t have to be scared anymore Fabrice; you’ll sleep better and have more energy to work with. I’m here now and I know how to look after things.”
A little spitefully he said, “That what Henley used to tell Auntie and he died.”
Evil little turd. He’s heard that somewhere and I’m going to be watching to find out where. I’m also going to be watching who might be setting him up as their useful fool. Seven-year-olds can be crafty … they ain’t that crafty.
“It didn’t make you sick at all?” Thibaut asked for the dozenth time.
“No. Stop asking stupid questions. I told you I like to eat as much as the next person. If that means cleaning and gutting things to fill my belly with then so be it. Now leave off, I’m trying to watch Mr. Julius skin that rabbit and you’re getting in my way.”
I suppose people are just going to think I’m weird … for a girl. It isn’t the first, it won’t be the last. Doesn’t really matter one way or the other. It was a good day and I had fun … mostly. I’d gotten very, very lucky and I knew it. And the luck was mostly because of Sarge. The guy knows his stuff and took us away from the rest of the group who, meaning to or not, ran several animals towards us.
Thibaut was still grousing. “Ain’t no way you got two bucks your first time out. Em had to have taken them and he’s just saying you did it so he can keep all his tags.”
I’d had enough. Being a lowly feeemale was one thing, putting up with his pranks and BS I was willing to brush off as well, but being called a liar was something else completely. I turned, swept Thibaut’s feet from under him and pushed at the same time sending him backwards into some nasty swamp water. He comes up spitting but fast and getting set to punch at me which told me he was no stranger to fighting. But neither was I, for reasons obvious and not. When he came at me he made it almost too easy to use a shoulder throw but this time I made sure he landed hard enough to knock the wind out of him, and before he could get up I had his arm in a lock and my boot on his throat.
“Knock it off,” I told him. “You called me a liar. I’m not fond of that. You stop acting like a knothead and this is over with.”
The other men were all blinking like they had been caught off guard at how fast things had happened and weren’t sure how to handle it. It was that feeemale thing again that left them not knowing what to do or say.
Or should I say most of them didn’t. “Ava!”
“Sarge, he’s been at me all freakin’ day. Including that damn snake. I’m not taking any more.”
“Turn him loose I say.”
“In a sec. I want to make good and sure he understands just how much I’m not taking it anymore.” To Thibaut I said, “You a stupid boy for not thinking about who you might be turning into an enemy. You got any idea what I had to do to make it from Florida to here on my own? You think about that. You also think about the fact that I didn’t hesitate, that I knew I could do it. And now I’m here and I’m just done putting up with crap that tries to get in my way. You hear what I’m saying?”
“Ava I said turn him loose. He ain’t worth the trouble.”
“I say he is. He disrespected you. Disrespected Mr. Julius. And disrespected some of the other men here. That shouldn’t be allowed to pass. You all let me come hunting. I know it was just because of the boat but you still let me. But if I don’t stop him now, he’s just going to get worse and worse and then a real fight is gonna have to happen. I’m trying to end this before blood gets spilled.”
In frustration Sarge snapped, “Dammit boy, you see what you started. I oughta let her tear your ass up. I’ve seen her fight. She ain’t got no back up in her. And stubborn as a damn mule.”
That’s when a big man that I didn’t recognize and hadn’t seen before came on the scene. “Don’t stop her Em. I been warning that boy one o’ these days he was gonna fun himself into a world o’ hurt. I reckon Henley’s niece just may be the one time too many he’s messed around.”
“Dad!”
“Don’t come calling out to me Tib. You was warned. Was Henley still with us you’d probably already be gator chow.”
Thibaut looks at me and then says the dumbest thing on the planet. “I was just jokin’. No need to take it so damn serious.”
Knowing it was over with I turned loose and step back. “Yeah, yeah. It’s all fun and games until someone gets their eye poked out. Stop being a pain in the butt. Mr. Julius and the others don’t need that crap and neither do I. Instead of instigating we could work together. Make things easier on both of us. You got a fine way with a snare. I wouldn’t mind seeing what knots you use …” I caught a look in his eyes and added, “But I’ll knot your head if what is in your mouth actually falls out.”
In no time Thibaut is snickering and it is like the fight never happened as I help him up. It’s like he is about five years younger than his age for some reason and I’m having to play big sister. Gawd I’ve done that enough in this life to be just plain sick of it but I’ll admit it isn’t a completely awful thing to have to be considered to some boxes people have wanted to shove me into.
Everyone goes back to what they were doing though some of them looked like they wanted to take a swat at us. Don’t blame them, just glad none of them followed through with it. Sarge shakes his head in aggravation and I know there is a discussion gonna be had at some point in the near future. The big man I gave a wide berth to as I hadn’t taken his measure just yet.
It only takes an hour more and everyone is packed up and ready to go. Thibaut runs over while I’m getting in Sarge’s truck and asks, “You wanna come next hunt?”
“Depends if Aunt Orélie needs me. Check with Sarge … I mean Em (he’d already put the kibosh on me calling him Mr. Em) … and maybe we can work something out. Only this time, no damn snakes.” Thibaut laughs but nods and takes off. He throws back one last comment about me screaming like a girl and I come real close to reminding him that I am a girl. I think he’s been dropped on his head more than a few times in this life, from birth onwards. It is the only explanation for that level of stupidity.
We were half-way back to the checkpoint when Sarge thinks he is gently about to raise a certain subject. I forestall him by saying, “He is a gold-plated knothead. Sure, he’s got blue eyes and wavy hair that all the girls probably go goo-goo over but I’m not them. And if it comes up again I’ll put him down again.”
“Not that I’m not glad to hear it but …”
Trying to show him I’m serious and not just fooling I say, “Sarge I ignored him as long as I could, but I’ve met his type before. If I hadn’t stood up for myself, eventually he would have pushed me too far and the fight it caused …” I shook my head. “Words, yeah, most of the time they can be ignored. Next though he would have been touching me when his words and pranks didn’t get the desired reaction and attention he was looking for. I’ve been pinched in places no one should have to accept. By both boys and men … and a few women if you must know. I’ve had some try to do more than that. And on a couple of memorable occasions I almost wasn’t able to get away when their ‘attention-seeking’ got out of hand. Thibaut strikes me as the kind that doesn’t know when to stop, and blind about when his fun and games aren’t seen as fun and games by other people. The only way not to be his prey is to teach him I’ve got big, sharp, and pointy teeth and will bite. Hopefully he’ll leave me alone now … or at least leave me alone about that stuff.”
“Hmm. You never said you’d had that kind of trouble.”
I could have been insulted but was smart enough to know it wasn’t worth the energy. Instead I told him, “Well it isn’t something you bring up in casual conversation is it. But unless you are going to hide away in a convent or monastery everyone eventually runs into it in some form or another, even if it is just casually. I’ve dealt with both kinds from both sides of the coin. I don’t have a lot that can be said about me but one thing anyone can say is I don’t lie, and I won’t be pushed. Try it and you’re going to pull back a nubbin.”
“You going to make a habit of this?”
“You mean fighting? Heck no. I already explained eleventy dozen times that I don’t want trouble and go out of my way to avoid it. Just sometimes you can’t avoid it. But … er … do me a favor and not mention this where Zeb hears about it.”
Like he’d caught me out he says, “So there is something there.”
I rolled my eyes and made sure he could see me do it. “Not the something you are thinking. He’s a friend. Like a lifelong friend. I don’t want him trying to figure out how to take sides in something that is none of his business.”
“I thought you said he was a friend.”
“He is. And I’m his friend. And you don’t go dragging your friends into things that is going to get them in trouble. I’m thinking fighting with a local family … who also happens to be family to the lady that is hosting your superior officer … would definitely create trouble. And I’ve already dealt with it. Unless Brainless’ father is going to expect something from me.”
“Hubert? Nah Cher. He thought it a good joke once he realized you really didn’t want to hurt Thibaut, just put him off your scent.”
It was a pretty outrageous remark. “Are … you … serious? You did not just say that.”
He chuckled. “Sure did Cher. As did Hubert. And as to that … Hubert is the real deal so you watch out. He works the oil rigs. I once saw him break a gator with his bare hands that came after Fabrice when he was a toddler. Don’t get on his bad side.”
“I don’t care to get on any of his sides, good or bad. Especially not someone that makes it seem like I’m an animal in heat.”
“Get down outta the trees, doubt you’ll see him much. He’s only around a couple times during a season. He and his kids’ mother are divorced, and he can’t stand the woman for more than a few minutes at a time. Neither can I for that matter. He blames her for the way Serafine has turned out. When he’s in town he stays in a room he keeps at his mother’s cousin, who just so happens to be Julius’ sister. Her forename is Adelle but mostly people call her Momma LeBlanc. She’s a crazy ol’ Rougarou at certain times but ain’t a bad person overall so long as you don’t mess with her family. She and Aunt Orélie used to be really tight as girls, sometimes they still share work. You’ll probably meet her this week ‘cause she comes by to help when there’s a lot of food to put by.” I made a face at hearing the next episode of the Cajun soap opera Comme les Tours D'Estomac and he finally relaxed and gave a belly laugh and I knew he’d let the rest of it go.
We were both tired and dirty when we pulled up to the Big House but there was still work to be done though I would have given a lot to be able to go off and think about the day and get some perspective. The reason why Mr. Hubert showed up when he did was because he had trade goods he wanted to barter. He had his limit on Coastal fish, blue crab, and shrimp and wanted something more local and fresh at home. He traded such things for his room and board. We didn’t get much of the fish except for some mullet and seatrout but we traded one of the bucks I brought down for half his take of blue crab (half of the twelve dozen he had on hand) and all the shrimp (fifty pounds). While trading was going on I heard about a local farmer’s market and I was wondering how that might figure into making some extra money. My Jill-of-All-Trades job is good and I’m not looking to give it up, but it never hurts to have something in the pipeline just in case.
When Aunt Orélie saw what we brought her she was happy enough to kiss me on the cheek and then flap her apron at me and tell me to go wash the stink off before coming in the house. My suspicions were up however when I saw Fabrice helping to cart everything in (the other buck went off to the processor who will call Sarge in a couple of days to come get the cuts he’d asked for). I’d never met a kid who seemed to light up like a calculator when he was counting groceries. It gave me ideas about why that might be so when he is normally as lazy as a hound that lays its head down to bark. In addition to the crabs and shrimp (and the deer that will be coming later), there was freshwater fish like bass, crappie, bowfin, buffalo fish, shad, and catfish. There were also birds like ducks, quail, doves, and pheasants.
The other biggie though were two feral hogs that Sarge and I had nearly been treed by before he got off shots with the right caliber to take them down. A pair of rangers were out patrolling for poachers and tried to shake us down but I’d remembered to bring all the paperwork I had and when they found out I was Uncle Henley’s niece they acted really civil, even telling me they were sorry for my loss. I nodded but let Sarge do the talking. It still feels weird to have people know my family more than I did.
The rangers took the hogs off but gave us receipts so we could come get them if they didn’t have some disease that was being checked for. We didn’t tell anyone about those hogs because Sarge said they were “illegal quadrupeds” and were basically free to anyone who could take them … and he didn’t necessarily want to share them with the others who were likely taking their own stuff they didn’t intend on sharing out.
And speaking of suspicion didn’t Fabrice act a little surprised to find that the coolers and pantries had new locks on them. “Why?” he demanded. “You gonna get in trouble. Auntie won’t like it.”
“Aunt Orélie is who these locks are for. There are a lot of strangers coming in and out of the house and plenty more coming in the future. No need to put you and her at risk by making this expensive stuff too easy to get to. Now things can’t just grow legs and walk off. Everything will be accounted for, just like the lawyers like. I’ve got cameras and alarms in there too so if someone just so happens to break in, the cameras will take a picture of whoever it might be and the alarms will wake everyone up.”
With a knowing look he said, “Cameras and alarms won’t work at night when there’s no ‘lectric.”
“They’re game cameras and don’t need electric. And the alarms are battery operated. So you don’t have to be scared anymore Fabrice; you’ll sleep better and have more energy to work with. I’m here now and I know how to look after things.”
A little spitefully he said, “That what Henley used to tell Auntie and he died.”
Evil little turd. He’s heard that somewhere and I’m going to be watching to find out where. I’m also going to be watching who might be setting him up as their useful fool. Seven-year-olds can be crafty … they ain’t that crafty.
Sammy55
Veteran Member
Thanks, Kathy!
Whooooweeeee! Now Ava is going to be watching for anyone who may have been involved in Henley's death!! I wouldn't want to tangle with her!! She'll be above board on what she does, but she WILL get revenge in one way or another cause you messed with her family!!!
Whooooweeeee! Now Ava is going to be watching for anyone who may have been involved in Henley's death!! I wouldn't want to tangle with her!! She'll be above board on what she does, but she WILL get revenge in one way or another cause you messed with her family!!!
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you very much.
Chapter 25
I only got one box done last night and it was basically just more clothes, an old green Stanley thermos (filled with q-tips and matches for some reason), an insulated lunch box, and a bunch of bandanas and handkerchiefs. I folded things and put them away and found places for the few odds and ends while I thought about the day. Including nearly putting a hit out on Thibaut for sneaking up on me and putting a snake in the waders when I wasn’t looking. Yeah, I squeaked like a girl when I felt something wiggling around where there shouldn’t have been anything wiggling. I shucked out of them waders so fast I nearly pulled my pants off at the same time. He and the snake both were lucky I can tell the difference between a moccasin and a banded water snake or they would have both been dead as soon as I could get my feet back under me.
Fine. It was more than a squeak. And a couple of those men must have known what was happening because they nearly herniated themselves laughing. Good thing I’m not a public crier or I might have right then and there. Luckily for all of them that I was distracted by a pheasant their stupid had flushed. Mr. Julius himself praised me for the shot and that was just one of the things that happened during the day that had hacked ol’ Brainless off. He was jealous over nothing but then that was just one of the ways he’d shown his stupid as the day wore on. I’d finally had it and I hope I’ve dealt with it like I told Sarge.
I suppose I admit that Thibaut is not all that worse than some of the guys in my old troop and better than some I had to share space with in foster care. The thing is he’s a little older and I thought guys started growing out of that kind of stupid once they hit eighteen to twenty or so. Apparently only some of them do. I suppose I better hope for the best but plan for the worst. If he keeps at me I’ll just have a private word with him and he better hope I don’t make a mess of his pretty face as part of that conversation.
I finally put the last of the box’s contents away and I admit I was a little disappointed. It seemed an excess of work at that point, one that made me a little more depressed with every box. Tonight’s boxes were another story but since I just finished putting that stuff away, I’ll go back to how today began.
Soggy on top of a rough night does not make for a good start.
It didn’t rain hard, but it was fairly constant all day long. It made Zeb’s group’s breakfast pretty miserable because the wind was blowing just enough to get the porch area too damp for comfort. I knew something else was wrong too but not what until later. Aunt Orélie wasn’t feeling good either and I found out she has “the rhumatiz” that acts up during a weather change. She looked like she was feeling mean as an old badger and I didn’t feel like getting chewed on just because I was the closest chew toy on hand. I fixed things by asking her to sit down and look over her list and prioritize what she wants done. While she did that I took care of breakfast.
Rather than get the kind of fancy I’ve seen her get up to, I made Colonel Douglas a down and dirty Cajun Omelet – something my father was fond of – and then make a huge mess of hash rather than all the fixings separate. It didn’t look particularly as appealing as usual, but I got no complaints about taste. And Aunt Orélie’s biscuits seemed to make up for any shortcomings in my cooking skills.
Sarge wasn’t exactly moving all that smoothly either. He’s in pain and I feel bad about not being able to do anything to fix it. I don’t know why I should but there it is, some things just are. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, it’s just he is a friend – albeit a pain in the backside kind of friend – and I don’t like to see friends in pain. Some of it is the weather – meaning there isn’t anything I can do about that – and some of it is trying to get back to regular life despite the damage that was done to his body and I can’t do a lot about that either. The fall from the porch I can make sure doesn’t happen again and once the wood out there is dry I’ll go over the railings and fix them with more than rope and caution tape.
I heard lunch was going to be eaten at their job site today. Even Colonel Douglas was going to be gone doing inspections. Aunt Orélie said she was going to work on accounts in her room … probably more like she was going to take some arthritis medicine and didn’t want to be bothered. Fine by me. I think I like Auntie but she’s one of those people whose temperament seems as variable as the weather. Fabrice was scooted off to school giving me a glare for walking him down and putting him on the bus myself. Apparently he isn’t a baby and doesn’t need my help, or so he hissed at me. Too bad so sad. He decided to run his mouth and I’ve decided to get in his business and find out who might be leading that not-so-innocent lamb astray. The fact that I get to irritate and embarrass him in the process is just icing on my cake.
Dishes all fit in the dishwashers and I had just made up my mind to check the French drains when I hear, “Ssps … ssps.”
I nonchalantly back up to the nearly closed door and with my back to it I whispered, “What’s up?”
I didn’t have to explain myself. Zeb knew I meant the weird vibe at breakfast. He whispers back, “Sgt. Kramer gave everyone the talk.”
“Er …”
“Not that talk,” he said trying to not be outraged. “Just we aren’t to fraternize with civilians … especially female civilians.”
“You have to be crapping me. Is sex all guys his age think about?! I’m getting serious tired of people’s assumptions.”
“Shhh. I’m just letting you know it isn’t anything personal.”
I sighed quietly. “Thanks. Stay out of trouble and I’ll keep it straight on my side and not encourage whatever the hell they think fraternization is.”
I could hear he was worried when he said, “Ava …”
“Relax, it isn’t you I’m mad at. But I swear I’m gonna get a sign that says something about old guys and dirty minds and see how they like being embarrassed to death.”
He snorted. “You would. Look, gotta go. I thought we could hang out but …”
“Don’t sweat it. Things will work out at some point. Kramer still isn’t as bad as your aunt.”
“Close though.”
There was someone coming down the hallway and we both vacated the area. Sure enough it is Sgt. Kramer. “You.”
I just look at him politely, reminding him in my own way I’m not one of his soldiers to order around. “Where is Pvt. Kennedy?” he demands.
“I have no idea.”
He gives me a hard stare but I let it wash over me. “Is there anything else Sergeant?”
“Yeah. Stay the hell out from underfoot.”
With a happy smile I tell him, “Well that’s nothing you need to worry about Sergeant. I will be doing whatever my employer asks me to, when they ask me to do it … and where.”
He sneers. “You don’t fool me girl. I’m not going to let some little slut create trouble on my watch. I’ve already heard about you. ‘Cause me problems and I’ll have you thrown in the nearest labor camp for troublemaking refugees.”
I was set to stand there silently but we both heard boots in the hallway behind him and it was the Colonel and some others, with Zeb bringing up the rear. Kramer changes from aggressive bully to professional military person so fast he would have even fooled me if I hadn’t just been on the receiving end. Zeb comes forward and says, “Colonel Douglas would like some coffee to go please.”
I eye the thermos he hands me and I’m not impressed. “This thing needs to be washed. Give me a minute and I’ll do it and fill it.”
I left and intentionally ignored Kramer while I took care of what the Colonel wanted. I was secretly pleased to see that after filling the thermos there wasn’t any coffee left to fill the mug that Kramer had in his hand. I also took pleasure in hanging the sign “Kitchen Closed” on the now shut swinging door before handing off the thermos to Zeb and heading outside to avoid continuing the Kramer discussion.
I’ve been on the bottom for too long not to know how things work. I could make a stink, complain about Kramer, undermine him and all the rest. I could even go out of my way to embarrass him in some way. The thing is I take my friendships seriously and doing what would have satisfied me would have created some serious problems for Zeb. Maybe for Aunt Orélie and Sarge as well. I’ll bide my time and if there is a chance to get Kramer without hurting Zeb and the others I’ll do it. Until then I put the situation on ignore and got down to adulting my personal responsibilities.
I am happy to say that all the French drains appear to be in fine fiddle and working as they should. I did have to climb a ladder a few times and clean out a gutter or two but they weren’t all that bad which tells me someone has been doing their job at some point. I offered to fix lunch but neither Aunt Orélie or Sarge wanted to be bothered so I went back to my room and cooked up the remaining leftover rice with some andouille sausage leftover from the morning’s hash, and half a can of pinto beans from my personal supplies. I wound up with a little indigestion, but a glass of milk calmed the volcano and I got back to work. Or tried to.
The rain pretty much got in the way of everything else I had planned for the day. I’d been told to leave everyone’s rooms alone until Friday so that was out. It seemed a useless past time to clean the floors beyond a quick run of the broom and carpet sweeper. I didn’t dare go into any of the common rooms as they were being used as offices and who knows what I might knock over or mess up. I checked on Sarge to see if he needed anything, but he was sleeping and I suspect it was a doze induced by a pain pill. I considered a doze of my own but decided my time was better spent going through Uncle Henley’s boxes … or at least a few more than normal … before I needed to see about supper.
Rather than traipsing back and forth in the rain I got the dolly out of the work shed and loaded it up with six of the heavier boxes from the bottom of the stacks. Getting down the stairs at the Big House and then up the stairs at the Old House was nearly a disaster on a couple of the risers but I’m glad I went to the trouble. First box I opened made me realize that not all the boxes were full of boring and depressing stuff.
Two of the six plastic tubs were filled with photo albums and old pictures in antique frames. Funny enough Uncle Henley had labeled the back of even the antique ones with names and dates … or at least approximate dates. I recognized his handwriting. I also recognized some of the names from research I did when I was earning my Genealogy Merit Badge; others meant nothing to me at all. Third box was full of what looked like legal papers … birth and death certificates and old wills and such … and another one of those boxes inside of a box thing that held the guest book and some pressed flowers from the group funeral done for my family. I don’t want anyone to think I’m a coward but I’m just not ready to deal with those memories yet. There were a few manilla envelopes that were labeled with the names and dates of other funerals including one for my grandmother. I figure I’ll have to look in those as well, but not right now. There were bundles of letters tied with black ribbons and some envelopes simply rubberbanded together; something else I’m going to put off looking at until some other time. Thankfully those three boxes were all of that I had to deal with.
Box number four was filled with a stainless steel dehydrator. I knew what it was because it used to be one of my mother’s prize appliances, a wedding gift is the way I remember the story she told. It had seen some use since I’d last laid eyes on it but it was still recognizable … including the scratch on the bottom right hand corner that Lalli had accidentally put on it when she’d thrown the salt shaker at me for some reason I can’t remember. That’s the only time I remember Mom putting Lalli on restriction and neither of them took it well, leaving me feeling guilty as Lalli meant me to.
I’d never really thought about where all the stuff had gone in my house after I overheard Uncle Henley on the phone saying most of it had to be sold to pay some debts my parents had. I just knew one day I had a house to live in with my own bed and the next I was sleeping on the sofa in Uncle Henley’s apartment and him telling me that I could only pick out a few things to keep because the rest of it had to go. I never really wanted to know where things had to “go” after I “saved” what I could. I guess some of the stuff hadn’t been sold however and that dehydrator was proof. I set it carefully on the countertop on the opposite end from the miniature stove top. It looked out of place but at the same time it makes this room more mine than any other room has been since I went to go live with Uncle Henley. Strange feeling and that’s a fact.
Box five was another trip down memory lane but for a different reason. It held a tea kettle and percolator I remember from my trip’s to Granmere’s house when I was little. They are both nondescript nickel-finished stainless steel but somehow, I knew exactly who they once belonged to. I looked along the bottom edge and sure enough there was an etching done by my father’s stepfather who we called Pa-pere … a miniature coon track that was his “mark” he put on everything. Also in that box was Uncle Henley’s Rada knife collection. He was sinful proud of those knives and I remember Mom saying he’d started picking them up at places like yard sales and flea markets when he was in high school. All I know is that I was never to touch them without permission because of how sharp they were. I took them, most of them with their cardboard blade covers still in place, and put them in the only drawer in the kitchenette not in use and moved my own silverware and knives in with them.
Sixth box was full of what was undoubtedly stuff left over from some woman’s kitchen … probably Granmere’s though maybe some from Mom’s as well. It was a gazillion and one bottles and small jars of spices and other seasonings. Some of the containers are probably older than I am but their contents still smell so I’m going to assume everything is still good. In the bottom of that box was several homemade knives, a couple of them big butcher knives. These too I remember from Granmere’s house. DJ used to call them The Pig Stickers. I guess because they were used for butchering pigs? Don’t know for sure, just remember them being stuck on a magnetic strip by the stove in Granmere’s kitchen and being told if I was ever caught messing with them I’d be having trouble sitting for a few days.
I was feeling moody and was ready to work at something else but it was still raining and it was at least an hour off from needing to help Auntie dish up supper. I decided to make myself go through some more boxes – to make Auntie happy if not myself – and headed back to the Big House. When I got there I found Aunt Orélie looking irritable.
“They could have given me more notice,” she snapped.
“S’cuse me?”
“If it hasn’t been one thing it’s been another. First Serafine calls and tells me that since Dante missed his visitation day this weekend, he’s taking the boy tonight and tomorrow. No asking my approval, just this is the way it is going to be. Well I’m talking to the lawyer about that. Visitation shouldn’t interfere with school and if he misses one more day they’re going to hold him back. If I hear he wasn’t in school there’s going to be trouble.”
“Er …”
“And now I get a call that they’s all staying over since it is taking longer to do their inspections ‘cause of the rain. I mean will you look at this?!” she growls pointing at all the food she’d been prepping for supper. I kept well back since she was “pointing” with her favorite meat clever. “And just what have you been doing? Haven’t seen hide nor hair of you since you disturbed my quiet time.”
Whew was she in a mood. “Sorry about that Aunt Orélie. I was worried about you. You take care of me so I wanted to return the favor and do the same for you. As for what I’ve been doing, I’m going through Uncle Henley’s boxes because I don’t want the lawyers to give you a hard time. I mean it was kind of you to store them for so long but … it’s time.”
“Well … land’s sake,” she said as the hot air got let out of her balloon.
“Let me wash my hands and I’ll pack this stuff up and put it back in the frig. At least you won’t have to do so much prep tomorrow.”
She sighed. “I suppose there isn’t some loss without at least some small gain. You seen Emerick?”
“I checked on him at lunch and he was sleeping. He might have overdone it some.”
She snorted. “Serve him right if he has. I think I’ll have Adelle take a look at him when she’s over here this week.” She explained who she meant, and I told her that I’d met Mr. Hubert and had the situation explained to me. “Whhhoooooeee, he’s a fine figure of a man. And if I was a few years younger he wouldn’t be a bachelor that’s for sure. It is a real shame his wife turned out to be such a tramp and taught Serafine to be the same. Those of us who care are trying to break her of it, but the life has a hold on her and doesn’t want to let go.”
Ew. TMI.
“You go on ahead and go through them boxes. You’re right, it isn’t something you should put off. Henley could be an odd one so there’s no telling what you’ll find. Tomorrow you’ll be hopping because I need you to go to the market and pick up an order and then bring it back and prep it for the freezers. Now I don’t have time to talk all night child. Let’s get this back in the frig and you get back to your work.”
Oh boy. But that’s what I did. She let me take some raw carrots with me with the next stack of boxes and I headed out trying to run between the rain drops.
I only got one box done last night and it was basically just more clothes, an old green Stanley thermos (filled with q-tips and matches for some reason), an insulated lunch box, and a bunch of bandanas and handkerchiefs. I folded things and put them away and found places for the few odds and ends while I thought about the day. Including nearly putting a hit out on Thibaut for sneaking up on me and putting a snake in the waders when I wasn’t looking. Yeah, I squeaked like a girl when I felt something wiggling around where there shouldn’t have been anything wiggling. I shucked out of them waders so fast I nearly pulled my pants off at the same time. He and the snake both were lucky I can tell the difference between a moccasin and a banded water snake or they would have both been dead as soon as I could get my feet back under me.
Fine. It was more than a squeak. And a couple of those men must have known what was happening because they nearly herniated themselves laughing. Good thing I’m not a public crier or I might have right then and there. Luckily for all of them that I was distracted by a pheasant their stupid had flushed. Mr. Julius himself praised me for the shot and that was just one of the things that happened during the day that had hacked ol’ Brainless off. He was jealous over nothing but then that was just one of the ways he’d shown his stupid as the day wore on. I’d finally had it and I hope I’ve dealt with it like I told Sarge.
I suppose I admit that Thibaut is not all that worse than some of the guys in my old troop and better than some I had to share space with in foster care. The thing is he’s a little older and I thought guys started growing out of that kind of stupid once they hit eighteen to twenty or so. Apparently only some of them do. I suppose I better hope for the best but plan for the worst. If he keeps at me I’ll just have a private word with him and he better hope I don’t make a mess of his pretty face as part of that conversation.
I finally put the last of the box’s contents away and I admit I was a little disappointed. It seemed an excess of work at that point, one that made me a little more depressed with every box. Tonight’s boxes were another story but since I just finished putting that stuff away, I’ll go back to how today began.
Soggy on top of a rough night does not make for a good start.
It didn’t rain hard, but it was fairly constant all day long. It made Zeb’s group’s breakfast pretty miserable because the wind was blowing just enough to get the porch area too damp for comfort. I knew something else was wrong too but not what until later. Aunt Orélie wasn’t feeling good either and I found out she has “the rhumatiz” that acts up during a weather change. She looked like she was feeling mean as an old badger and I didn’t feel like getting chewed on just because I was the closest chew toy on hand. I fixed things by asking her to sit down and look over her list and prioritize what she wants done. While she did that I took care of breakfast.
Rather than get the kind of fancy I’ve seen her get up to, I made Colonel Douglas a down and dirty Cajun Omelet – something my father was fond of – and then make a huge mess of hash rather than all the fixings separate. It didn’t look particularly as appealing as usual, but I got no complaints about taste. And Aunt Orélie’s biscuits seemed to make up for any shortcomings in my cooking skills.
Sarge wasn’t exactly moving all that smoothly either. He’s in pain and I feel bad about not being able to do anything to fix it. I don’t know why I should but there it is, some things just are. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, it’s just he is a friend – albeit a pain in the backside kind of friend – and I don’t like to see friends in pain. Some of it is the weather – meaning there isn’t anything I can do about that – and some of it is trying to get back to regular life despite the damage that was done to his body and I can’t do a lot about that either. The fall from the porch I can make sure doesn’t happen again and once the wood out there is dry I’ll go over the railings and fix them with more than rope and caution tape.
I heard lunch was going to be eaten at their job site today. Even Colonel Douglas was going to be gone doing inspections. Aunt Orélie said she was going to work on accounts in her room … probably more like she was going to take some arthritis medicine and didn’t want to be bothered. Fine by me. I think I like Auntie but she’s one of those people whose temperament seems as variable as the weather. Fabrice was scooted off to school giving me a glare for walking him down and putting him on the bus myself. Apparently he isn’t a baby and doesn’t need my help, or so he hissed at me. Too bad so sad. He decided to run his mouth and I’ve decided to get in his business and find out who might be leading that not-so-innocent lamb astray. The fact that I get to irritate and embarrass him in the process is just icing on my cake.
Dishes all fit in the dishwashers and I had just made up my mind to check the French drains when I hear, “Ssps … ssps.”
I nonchalantly back up to the nearly closed door and with my back to it I whispered, “What’s up?”
I didn’t have to explain myself. Zeb knew I meant the weird vibe at breakfast. He whispers back, “Sgt. Kramer gave everyone the talk.”
“Er …”
“Not that talk,” he said trying to not be outraged. “Just we aren’t to fraternize with civilians … especially female civilians.”
“You have to be crapping me. Is sex all guys his age think about?! I’m getting serious tired of people’s assumptions.”
“Shhh. I’m just letting you know it isn’t anything personal.”
I sighed quietly. “Thanks. Stay out of trouble and I’ll keep it straight on my side and not encourage whatever the hell they think fraternization is.”
I could hear he was worried when he said, “Ava …”
“Relax, it isn’t you I’m mad at. But I swear I’m gonna get a sign that says something about old guys and dirty minds and see how they like being embarrassed to death.”
He snorted. “You would. Look, gotta go. I thought we could hang out but …”
“Don’t sweat it. Things will work out at some point. Kramer still isn’t as bad as your aunt.”
“Close though.”
There was someone coming down the hallway and we both vacated the area. Sure enough it is Sgt. Kramer. “You.”
I just look at him politely, reminding him in my own way I’m not one of his soldiers to order around. “Where is Pvt. Kennedy?” he demands.
“I have no idea.”
He gives me a hard stare but I let it wash over me. “Is there anything else Sergeant?”
“Yeah. Stay the hell out from underfoot.”
With a happy smile I tell him, “Well that’s nothing you need to worry about Sergeant. I will be doing whatever my employer asks me to, when they ask me to do it … and where.”
He sneers. “You don’t fool me girl. I’m not going to let some little slut create trouble on my watch. I’ve already heard about you. ‘Cause me problems and I’ll have you thrown in the nearest labor camp for troublemaking refugees.”
I was set to stand there silently but we both heard boots in the hallway behind him and it was the Colonel and some others, with Zeb bringing up the rear. Kramer changes from aggressive bully to professional military person so fast he would have even fooled me if I hadn’t just been on the receiving end. Zeb comes forward and says, “Colonel Douglas would like some coffee to go please.”
I eye the thermos he hands me and I’m not impressed. “This thing needs to be washed. Give me a minute and I’ll do it and fill it.”
I left and intentionally ignored Kramer while I took care of what the Colonel wanted. I was secretly pleased to see that after filling the thermos there wasn’t any coffee left to fill the mug that Kramer had in his hand. I also took pleasure in hanging the sign “Kitchen Closed” on the now shut swinging door before handing off the thermos to Zeb and heading outside to avoid continuing the Kramer discussion.
I’ve been on the bottom for too long not to know how things work. I could make a stink, complain about Kramer, undermine him and all the rest. I could even go out of my way to embarrass him in some way. The thing is I take my friendships seriously and doing what would have satisfied me would have created some serious problems for Zeb. Maybe for Aunt Orélie and Sarge as well. I’ll bide my time and if there is a chance to get Kramer without hurting Zeb and the others I’ll do it. Until then I put the situation on ignore and got down to adulting my personal responsibilities.
I am happy to say that all the French drains appear to be in fine fiddle and working as they should. I did have to climb a ladder a few times and clean out a gutter or two but they weren’t all that bad which tells me someone has been doing their job at some point. I offered to fix lunch but neither Aunt Orélie or Sarge wanted to be bothered so I went back to my room and cooked up the remaining leftover rice with some andouille sausage leftover from the morning’s hash, and half a can of pinto beans from my personal supplies. I wound up with a little indigestion, but a glass of milk calmed the volcano and I got back to work. Or tried to.
The rain pretty much got in the way of everything else I had planned for the day. I’d been told to leave everyone’s rooms alone until Friday so that was out. It seemed a useless past time to clean the floors beyond a quick run of the broom and carpet sweeper. I didn’t dare go into any of the common rooms as they were being used as offices and who knows what I might knock over or mess up. I checked on Sarge to see if he needed anything, but he was sleeping and I suspect it was a doze induced by a pain pill. I considered a doze of my own but decided my time was better spent going through Uncle Henley’s boxes … or at least a few more than normal … before I needed to see about supper.
Rather than traipsing back and forth in the rain I got the dolly out of the work shed and loaded it up with six of the heavier boxes from the bottom of the stacks. Getting down the stairs at the Big House and then up the stairs at the Old House was nearly a disaster on a couple of the risers but I’m glad I went to the trouble. First box I opened made me realize that not all the boxes were full of boring and depressing stuff.
Two of the six plastic tubs were filled with photo albums and old pictures in antique frames. Funny enough Uncle Henley had labeled the back of even the antique ones with names and dates … or at least approximate dates. I recognized his handwriting. I also recognized some of the names from research I did when I was earning my Genealogy Merit Badge; others meant nothing to me at all. Third box was full of what looked like legal papers … birth and death certificates and old wills and such … and another one of those boxes inside of a box thing that held the guest book and some pressed flowers from the group funeral done for my family. I don’t want anyone to think I’m a coward but I’m just not ready to deal with those memories yet. There were a few manilla envelopes that were labeled with the names and dates of other funerals including one for my grandmother. I figure I’ll have to look in those as well, but not right now. There were bundles of letters tied with black ribbons and some envelopes simply rubberbanded together; something else I’m going to put off looking at until some other time. Thankfully those three boxes were all of that I had to deal with.
Box number four was filled with a stainless steel dehydrator. I knew what it was because it used to be one of my mother’s prize appliances, a wedding gift is the way I remember the story she told. It had seen some use since I’d last laid eyes on it but it was still recognizable … including the scratch on the bottom right hand corner that Lalli had accidentally put on it when she’d thrown the salt shaker at me for some reason I can’t remember. That’s the only time I remember Mom putting Lalli on restriction and neither of them took it well, leaving me feeling guilty as Lalli meant me to.
I’d never really thought about where all the stuff had gone in my house after I overheard Uncle Henley on the phone saying most of it had to be sold to pay some debts my parents had. I just knew one day I had a house to live in with my own bed and the next I was sleeping on the sofa in Uncle Henley’s apartment and him telling me that I could only pick out a few things to keep because the rest of it had to go. I never really wanted to know where things had to “go” after I “saved” what I could. I guess some of the stuff hadn’t been sold however and that dehydrator was proof. I set it carefully on the countertop on the opposite end from the miniature stove top. It looked out of place but at the same time it makes this room more mine than any other room has been since I went to go live with Uncle Henley. Strange feeling and that’s a fact.
Box five was another trip down memory lane but for a different reason. It held a tea kettle and percolator I remember from my trip’s to Granmere’s house when I was little. They are both nondescript nickel-finished stainless steel but somehow, I knew exactly who they once belonged to. I looked along the bottom edge and sure enough there was an etching done by my father’s stepfather who we called Pa-pere … a miniature coon track that was his “mark” he put on everything. Also in that box was Uncle Henley’s Rada knife collection. He was sinful proud of those knives and I remember Mom saying he’d started picking them up at places like yard sales and flea markets when he was in high school. All I know is that I was never to touch them without permission because of how sharp they were. I took them, most of them with their cardboard blade covers still in place, and put them in the only drawer in the kitchenette not in use and moved my own silverware and knives in with them.
Sixth box was full of what was undoubtedly stuff left over from some woman’s kitchen … probably Granmere’s though maybe some from Mom’s as well. It was a gazillion and one bottles and small jars of spices and other seasonings. Some of the containers are probably older than I am but their contents still smell so I’m going to assume everything is still good. In the bottom of that box was several homemade knives, a couple of them big butcher knives. These too I remember from Granmere’s house. DJ used to call them The Pig Stickers. I guess because they were used for butchering pigs? Don’t know for sure, just remember them being stuck on a magnetic strip by the stove in Granmere’s kitchen and being told if I was ever caught messing with them I’d be having trouble sitting for a few days.
I was feeling moody and was ready to work at something else but it was still raining and it was at least an hour off from needing to help Auntie dish up supper. I decided to make myself go through some more boxes – to make Auntie happy if not myself – and headed back to the Big House. When I got there I found Aunt Orélie looking irritable.
“They could have given me more notice,” she snapped.
“S’cuse me?”
“If it hasn’t been one thing it’s been another. First Serafine calls and tells me that since Dante missed his visitation day this weekend, he’s taking the boy tonight and tomorrow. No asking my approval, just this is the way it is going to be. Well I’m talking to the lawyer about that. Visitation shouldn’t interfere with school and if he misses one more day they’re going to hold him back. If I hear he wasn’t in school there’s going to be trouble.”
“Er …”
“And now I get a call that they’s all staying over since it is taking longer to do their inspections ‘cause of the rain. I mean will you look at this?!” she growls pointing at all the food she’d been prepping for supper. I kept well back since she was “pointing” with her favorite meat clever. “And just what have you been doing? Haven’t seen hide nor hair of you since you disturbed my quiet time.”
Whew was she in a mood. “Sorry about that Aunt Orélie. I was worried about you. You take care of me so I wanted to return the favor and do the same for you. As for what I’ve been doing, I’m going through Uncle Henley’s boxes because I don’t want the lawyers to give you a hard time. I mean it was kind of you to store them for so long but … it’s time.”
“Well … land’s sake,” she said as the hot air got let out of her balloon.
“Let me wash my hands and I’ll pack this stuff up and put it back in the frig. At least you won’t have to do so much prep tomorrow.”
She sighed. “I suppose there isn’t some loss without at least some small gain. You seen Emerick?”
“I checked on him at lunch and he was sleeping. He might have overdone it some.”
She snorted. “Serve him right if he has. I think I’ll have Adelle take a look at him when she’s over here this week.” She explained who she meant, and I told her that I’d met Mr. Hubert and had the situation explained to me. “Whhhoooooeee, he’s a fine figure of a man. And if I was a few years younger he wouldn’t be a bachelor that’s for sure. It is a real shame his wife turned out to be such a tramp and taught Serafine to be the same. Those of us who care are trying to break her of it, but the life has a hold on her and doesn’t want to let go.”
Ew. TMI.
“You go on ahead and go through them boxes. You’re right, it isn’t something you should put off. Henley could be an odd one so there’s no telling what you’ll find. Tomorrow you’ll be hopping because I need you to go to the market and pick up an order and then bring it back and prep it for the freezers. Now I don’t have time to talk all night child. Let’s get this back in the frig and you get back to your work.”
Oh boy. But that’s what I did. She let me take some raw carrots with me with the next stack of boxes and I headed out trying to run between the rain drops.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you, yeah fishing about Kramer being told lies about her.
Chapter 26
I was regretting the next stack of boxes until I opened the first one. I don’t know what it is exactly, but the boxes depress me. Maybe they represent something? I don’t know. They are a reminder of something though I don’t really know what to call it. It just tugs at something deep in my psyche and makes it hard to deal with … with just anything for a while. I always hated when they would send us to counselors for our own good. I especially hated it when the counselors were every bit as messed us as we were supposed to be … or it seemed like that as they were forever trying to identify with us and be our “friends” by sharing their own traumas. I had one too many trying to explain how I was confused about my identity. Trust me, I wasn’t the one that was confused. On the other hand, there were a few that tried to do some good and I tried to listen to them. Even using the coping skills they helped me learn, I’m still not sure what it is about the boxes. But like it eventually got to the point I couldn’t put off leaving Florida, I can’t put off dealing with Uncle Henley’s boxes either.
Top of the first box held a shrimp cleaner, an oyster knife, and a crab cutter. Real Louisiana kitchen tools. Mom had a drawer in the kitchen full of stuff like that the same way other people would have pasta makers, empanada makers or pineapple corers … different tools for the different kinds of food you were most used to. There was also a knife and scissor sharpening thingamabob and a couple of manual can openers. Always handy to have around since they don’t need electric. Below that stuff though was another box and as soon as I saw it I knew I had to mess with it to see if it actually worked. I am the proud owner of a real, honest to goodness, gravity-powdered light. I mean it doesn’t give off a lot of light – only 15 lumens according to the box – but better than being in the dark when the power goes off or trying to light your way by holding a flashlight in your mouth.
The light operates by a set of pulley gears. You hang it from the ceiling … at least six feet up … and then the weighted pulleys work similar to what is inside a grandfather clock. The pulleys last about 20 minutes at a time and all you have to do to reset it is to restart the pulleys. It’s very cool. I got a look at the inside of the contraption and it looks like it wouldn’t take hard use (the “chains” are more like plastic beading) but since it was designed for third world or extremely backcountry locations it isn’t made of glass either. I’ll have to mess with it a little more to figure out how to replace bulbs if they go out but there’s no type of battery to mess with so that’s a plus. I hung it up and it really does work. For now it is hanging over by the closet because there is already a hook in the ceiling there. I might move it, I might not. We’ll have to see. It does give off enough light that I need to secure the blackout curtains better.
That first box brought my energy level back up so opening the second box wasn’t such a chore. It held something else that was immediately useful to me. An enamelware dish basin and an enamelware pitcher. I just been wishing for something like this and I guess Someone was listening. I try not to be a hypocrite and call on God and all too much but some things just seem too providential to ignore. It makes me feel bad for my mouth and attitude and I suppose I am slipping into bad habits that are only going to get harder to break. I’m going to try but then again, I’ve said that before. It isn’t “ladylike”, but I don’t believe in the definition of that that’s been shoved down my throat my entire life. Maybe I should just stick to trying for better manners and not shocking my elders and leave the rest alone for someone else to mess with. I don’t have the time for it.
Third box was full of miscellaneous doodads. There were four enamelware mugs, a cast iron pie iron like we occasionally used at camp, a hatchet that needed sharpening, and an ax head without a handle. There were some wooden spoons and a mallet that looked fossilized they were so old. An ice pick, granmere’s nut grinder and the butter churn she said belonged to her grandmother made out of a mason jar and some paddles that turned with a crank handle. Then there was the butter bell she always put on the table at breakfast to keep the flies out of the butter.
Next box confused me at first until I found the instructions and operator’s manual stuck inside one of the sections. It is a water distiller gizmo. Apparently you fill the stainless steel compartments with water, set it over something hot, and it distills water out through some hosing and into a jar (or something you put to catch the drops) and is a way to get uncontaminated water. It seems to me that a water filter would be easier, but the distiller looks expensive so maybe Uncle Henley knew something I don’t. Something else to put on Ava’s list to look up.
Last two boxes held a giant sewing basket full of stuff, some emergency candles, two five-gallon collapsible water cubes, a big box of waterproof matches, a manual apple peeler (I know what it was because Mom had one), then a crapton of hygiene stuff that included things like a tin of No-bite-me-cream (with 16 essentials oils, like cedar, lemongrass and mint that must drive the bugs off). Jewelweed salve and spray for relief from poison ivy that apparently works because it removes the urushiol, which is what causes that itchy rash. Bloody knuckles hand repair (made with lanolin) which I’m going to see if it works since I’ve racked my knuckles a couple of times moving the boxes around to get at the heavier ones. A couple of old-fashioned straight razors that made me think of how hairy my legs and pits are right now. I’m not sure I want to practice on my pits, so I’ll start with my legs in a day or two because there was also several boxes of shaving soap. There was this weird powdered soap called Pinerite that I guess is like the Lava soap dad used to keep in his shop. It’s gritty the same way but smells completely different. Even stronger than the Pinerite was the bars of Pine Tar soap. Whew, those are nearly eye-watering. Last but not least was a bag of plastic combs like you can get from the Dollar General. I need a new brush, but a comb will do until my first paycheck … assuming there’s anything left after taxes get taken out.
I was on a roll and considered getting another stack of six boxes but lights out was getting close so I only grabbed one more box – after going eeny meeny minee mo – after putting up the dolly and making sure that all of the outbuildings were locked up for the night. It was more household cleaners and covering two more “treasures.” A couple bars of Fels Naptha, a bottle of liquid pine cleaner, a tube of stove black and polish, an old-fashioned washboard, a chainmail scrubber, and then below all that I found a wind up lantern and Pa-pere’s wood carving and metal etching tools. Pa-pere died when I was little but I still remember him because he made such an impression on me. Granmere was always saying, “You’re going to spoil that girl.” That girl being me. I don’t remember exactly what he did to spoil me but I do remember he used to let me sit and watch him take “junk” he’d found lying around and make it into something new and pretty that he would sell or give away as a gift. I’m not thinking about that right now. It makes me sad.
The other thing in the box was another insulated lunch bag and inside that was a jar of dry roasted peanuts, a container of buttermints, and a bag of black jellybeans. Crazy combination but by that point I was getting depressed again and I knew it was time to stop. I’m thinking of just trying one of those straight razors out if I can get up the courage. Hopefully I don’t take off the top layer of skin or cut my leg off. That would be hard to explain.
I was regretting the next stack of boxes until I opened the first one. I don’t know what it is exactly, but the boxes depress me. Maybe they represent something? I don’t know. They are a reminder of something though I don’t really know what to call it. It just tugs at something deep in my psyche and makes it hard to deal with … with just anything for a while. I always hated when they would send us to counselors for our own good. I especially hated it when the counselors were every bit as messed us as we were supposed to be … or it seemed like that as they were forever trying to identify with us and be our “friends” by sharing their own traumas. I had one too many trying to explain how I was confused about my identity. Trust me, I wasn’t the one that was confused. On the other hand, there were a few that tried to do some good and I tried to listen to them. Even using the coping skills they helped me learn, I’m still not sure what it is about the boxes. But like it eventually got to the point I couldn’t put off leaving Florida, I can’t put off dealing with Uncle Henley’s boxes either.
Top of the first box held a shrimp cleaner, an oyster knife, and a crab cutter. Real Louisiana kitchen tools. Mom had a drawer in the kitchen full of stuff like that the same way other people would have pasta makers, empanada makers or pineapple corers … different tools for the different kinds of food you were most used to. There was also a knife and scissor sharpening thingamabob and a couple of manual can openers. Always handy to have around since they don’t need electric. Below that stuff though was another box and as soon as I saw it I knew I had to mess with it to see if it actually worked. I am the proud owner of a real, honest to goodness, gravity-powdered light. I mean it doesn’t give off a lot of light – only 15 lumens according to the box – but better than being in the dark when the power goes off or trying to light your way by holding a flashlight in your mouth.
The light operates by a set of pulley gears. You hang it from the ceiling … at least six feet up … and then the weighted pulleys work similar to what is inside a grandfather clock. The pulleys last about 20 minutes at a time and all you have to do to reset it is to restart the pulleys. It’s very cool. I got a look at the inside of the contraption and it looks like it wouldn’t take hard use (the “chains” are more like plastic beading) but since it was designed for third world or extremely backcountry locations it isn’t made of glass either. I’ll have to mess with it a little more to figure out how to replace bulbs if they go out but there’s no type of battery to mess with so that’s a plus. I hung it up and it really does work. For now it is hanging over by the closet because there is already a hook in the ceiling there. I might move it, I might not. We’ll have to see. It does give off enough light that I need to secure the blackout curtains better.
That first box brought my energy level back up so opening the second box wasn’t such a chore. It held something else that was immediately useful to me. An enamelware dish basin and an enamelware pitcher. I just been wishing for something like this and I guess Someone was listening. I try not to be a hypocrite and call on God and all too much but some things just seem too providential to ignore. It makes me feel bad for my mouth and attitude and I suppose I am slipping into bad habits that are only going to get harder to break. I’m going to try but then again, I’ve said that before. It isn’t “ladylike”, but I don’t believe in the definition of that that’s been shoved down my throat my entire life. Maybe I should just stick to trying for better manners and not shocking my elders and leave the rest alone for someone else to mess with. I don’t have the time for it.
Third box was full of miscellaneous doodads. There were four enamelware mugs, a cast iron pie iron like we occasionally used at camp, a hatchet that needed sharpening, and an ax head without a handle. There were some wooden spoons and a mallet that looked fossilized they were so old. An ice pick, granmere’s nut grinder and the butter churn she said belonged to her grandmother made out of a mason jar and some paddles that turned with a crank handle. Then there was the butter bell she always put on the table at breakfast to keep the flies out of the butter.
Next box confused me at first until I found the instructions and operator’s manual stuck inside one of the sections. It is a water distiller gizmo. Apparently you fill the stainless steel compartments with water, set it over something hot, and it distills water out through some hosing and into a jar (or something you put to catch the drops) and is a way to get uncontaminated water. It seems to me that a water filter would be easier, but the distiller looks expensive so maybe Uncle Henley knew something I don’t. Something else to put on Ava’s list to look up.
Last two boxes held a giant sewing basket full of stuff, some emergency candles, two five-gallon collapsible water cubes, a big box of waterproof matches, a manual apple peeler (I know what it was because Mom had one), then a crapton of hygiene stuff that included things like a tin of No-bite-me-cream (with 16 essentials oils, like cedar, lemongrass and mint that must drive the bugs off). Jewelweed salve and spray for relief from poison ivy that apparently works because it removes the urushiol, which is what causes that itchy rash. Bloody knuckles hand repair (made with lanolin) which I’m going to see if it works since I’ve racked my knuckles a couple of times moving the boxes around to get at the heavier ones. A couple of old-fashioned straight razors that made me think of how hairy my legs and pits are right now. I’m not sure I want to practice on my pits, so I’ll start with my legs in a day or two because there was also several boxes of shaving soap. There was this weird powdered soap called Pinerite that I guess is like the Lava soap dad used to keep in his shop. It’s gritty the same way but smells completely different. Even stronger than the Pinerite was the bars of Pine Tar soap. Whew, those are nearly eye-watering. Last but not least was a bag of plastic combs like you can get from the Dollar General. I need a new brush, but a comb will do until my first paycheck … assuming there’s anything left after taxes get taken out.
I was on a roll and considered getting another stack of six boxes but lights out was getting close so I only grabbed one more box – after going eeny meeny minee mo – after putting up the dolly and making sure that all of the outbuildings were locked up for the night. It was more household cleaners and covering two more “treasures.” A couple bars of Fels Naptha, a bottle of liquid pine cleaner, a tube of stove black and polish, an old-fashioned washboard, a chainmail scrubber, and then below all that I found a wind up lantern and Pa-pere’s wood carving and metal etching tools. Pa-pere died when I was little but I still remember him because he made such an impression on me. Granmere was always saying, “You’re going to spoil that girl.” That girl being me. I don’t remember exactly what he did to spoil me but I do remember he used to let me sit and watch him take “junk” he’d found lying around and make it into something new and pretty that he would sell or give away as a gift. I’m not thinking about that right now. It makes me sad.
The other thing in the box was another insulated lunch bag and inside that was a jar of dry roasted peanuts, a container of buttermints, and a bag of black jellybeans. Crazy combination but by that point I was getting depressed again and I knew it was time to stop. I’m thinking of just trying one of those straight razors out if I can get up the courage. Hopefully I don’t take off the top layer of skin or cut my leg off. That would be hard to explain.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Very good, thank you.
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Kathy,
Kramer needs to wise up for Sarge will hear and Kramer will pay, unless Chere gets to him first....
Boxes filled with some junk and with treasure.... Will have to look up at the gravity light which I have never seen....
How neat....
Thanks Kathy for the story....
Texican....
Kramer needs to wise up for Sarge will hear and Kramer will pay, unless Chere gets to him first....
Boxes filled with some junk and with treasure.... Will have to look up at the gravity light which I have never seen....
How neat....
Thanks Kathy for the story....
Texican....
Renee LIVES!
Chapter 27
Aunt Orélie wasn’t exaggerating when she said I’d be hopping. And not just on Tuesday but the entire week. See I forgot that Thanksgiving was coming on Thursday. Geez Louise. I’m not especially fond of holidays to start with but this one was made even worse by being cut off from the one thing that normally got me through … work. Or should I say work that took me away from all the holiday hullabaloo.
Tuesday morning breakfast was no big deal. Auntie asked if I would do her a favor by making up omelets since it was just her, Sarge, and me and she had a morning meeting scheduled with the lawyers. Which lawyers that was I didn’t ask since it was none of my business. Fabrice was still off with the man called Dante and wouldn’t be back until after school and she said she’d be back before then. “I wouldn’t leave him for you to watch. He’ll probably be wired up stupid like he is every time that man has him for visitation,” predicted Aunt Orélie with disgust.
Sarge was feeling better physically but seemed in a funk all the same. It came out why but to say I wasn’t happy was an understatement.
“Ava, we need to work on you getting a driver’s license,” he told me during breakfast.
“I can’t afford one right now, not even a learner’s. And I still need to fix the tire on my bike. For now my feets are going to have to do. You need something in particular?”
He looked at me in aggravation and said, “Hard head. Why didn’t you say so? You averse to asking for help?”
A little taken aback by his tone I answered, “Not averse, just cautious. Don’t take it personal Sarge I …”
And here came more cranky. “I thought we agreed you’d call me Em.”
Seems his morning personality is near lovely as mine. I swallowed my bite of toast then said, “I call you Em because other people act weird when I call you Sarge. I call you Sarge when other people aren’t involved because that is what you are, and it seems more respectful. Just like when other military people are around I call you Sgt. Jeansonne. But if you don’t like me calling you Sarge I won’t.”
He drew breath to say something I probably wouldn’t have like but stopped. He sighed and shook his head. “I’m foul, but not at you. Don’t take it personal.”
I snorted. “You took my line. I rarely take things personal unless they are meant personal.” I thought I’d started a conversation but he was silent. “Sarge? Er … Em? Is there something I can do?”
I didn’t think he was going to answer but after making sure that Auntie was all the way out of the house he said, “I want you to step lightly around Kramer if he stays assigned here. I’m hoping he gets moved to another area.”
A little confused I said, “I thought you two were friends.”
“He imagines he is being my friend.”
It took me two seconds to take in the look on his face and put it together. I slammed my fork down and caught Sarge off guard with my anger. “Ava?”
I don’t like throwing tantrums but I was real close and struggling not to show my backside. “You know he gave ‘the talk’ to Zeb and the rest of those guys?! Now maybe … maybe … I can understand if he is one of those stupid protective types and thinks I’m just a piece of trash someone scraped off their boot. I mean some of those boys are nearly neon green and Zeb is probably not the only one with family that hooked them up with the Colonel in hopes of keeping them out of action. So … I get it. Don’t like it, but I get it. Sort of. You on the other hand? Just why would he warn you off? I’d never pay you back that way. And you aren’t interested in jailbait which is probably all you think of me as.”
“Now I never said …”
“You didn’t have to. Kramer has already gone out of his way to make his opinion of me and my morals known.”
“What the hell?! Quand était-ce?”
“Don’t matter and I wasn’t going to make a stink of it right now because he’s got a job to do and just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean that changes reality. I know my place better than Kramer ever could.”
“Ava …”
“Seriously Sarge … I don’t want anyone taking up my cause when it is only going to create more problems. I have to stand up for myself in this life. What Kramer thinks … I’m not going to let it get out of hand by paying more attention to it than I have to. I’ll be circumspect … assuming he’ll let me. On the other hand though, Kramer needs to keep his own gonads under control and deflate both the big and little head of his.”
“Ava!”
“What do you expect me to say?! He’s got sex on the brain! Or he has some seriously messed up ideas about females. Or both. Just because I have a ball and he has a bat doesn’t mean I’m looking for someone to take a swing. From him or anyone else for that matter. I swear every time I turn around someone is trying to make something out of …”
It sounded like there was a gator on the other side of the table for a sec then Sarge says, “You little hell cat, now you listen to me … stay away from Kramer. Yeah, he’s got two ex-wives and working on his third. It may have … colored his view a little. But that isn’t your problem.”
“No it sure ain’t,” I snapped. “But apparently he’s looking for a target to take his bad choices out on.”
He sighed like he was disappointed and said, “Yeah. He is. I never would have thought it of him but there’s other things.”
“Like him being a bully? Like him being two-faced? Like him being …”
“Whoa, just whoa. What kind of run in with him did you have?”
“Not much of one because it got interrupted but he was jacking up for something … something I would not have won. But I saw that two-face act when he was so nasty to me but was able to hide it real fast – like he’s had practice – when the Colonel came down the hall. Kramer is a nasty piece. I don’t want any trouble with him, but I got a bad feeling he’s picked me to make trouble for.” My temper under control I admitted, “I can’t afford what it will cost me if he doesn’t back off. The man threatened to have me thrown in a refugee camp for troublemakers.”
“Merde! Did he say that or just hint at it?”
“Said it flat out. He seems the type that would do it too. How bad is he for Zeb and the rest of ‘em?”
“Quelle?”
“If a man will abuse his authority on someone that has no defense against it what else will he abuse?”
He gave me a thoughtful look. “You stay away from Kramer,” he said calmly. “Don’t let him get you one on one. If he tries you tell him you’ve been instructed to avoid one on one situations with anyone of the opposite gender. If he … if he don’t back off then you run. Understand?”
“Unfortunately,” I told him.
“They’re going to be back for lunch. You aren’t going to be here.”
“Hey!”
“Don’t fight me on this Ava, I’m not asking for anything you won’t be able to accept. And you ain’t running either, not this time, you’re going to be working. But it is going to be outta Kramer”s reach. I’m going to drop you and my truck and trailer off at the Farmer’s Market and go see a man about a job. And get that look off your face; it’s a job for me not you. Got my papers yesterday.”
“Papers?”
“MEB – the medical evaluation board – had already referred me to PEB. I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
I surprised him by knowing, “The Physical Evaluation Board.” At his look I shrugged. “Guy I used to work for that owned a Surplus Store didn’t have a lot of good to say about the system. He was force-retired short of what he needed for some kind of payments or something. I didn’t understand all of it, but I know what you mean.”
Sarge sat up straighter in his chair and I could see he was trying to ease his back some. “I … I expected this. Didn’t want it but it is better than being dead. I can’t run or bend right now. Can’t lift worth a damn. No way am I fit for combat; I’d endanger everyone around me. They thought they were doing me a favor putting me on the TDRL list – giving me time to recover – but … it … it just ain’t going too well. I’m just not going to be fit for deployment any time in the near future.”
“I’m real sorry Sarge.”
“Yeah, me too. It is going to be fun to go home and have to tell my mother and brother. Gonna make Thanksgiving hard.”
“Why do you have to?”
“’Cause my mother is not getting any younger and I learned the hard way that the last time you say goodbye to someone might be the last time you get to say goodbye to someone.” He saw right away that he had twanged something that I didn’t like to think about too often. “Ava …”
“Don’t sweat it. But like you said, it is a hard way to learn.”
“Yeah it is. Worse though is that they are going to keep me on the TDRL list for another six months before they turn me completely loose. Just on the off chance they find something they need me to do. And it isn’t going to be at full pay either. At the end of that … oh hell, you don’t need to hear …”
“Hey Sarge, just go ahead and talk. I may not understand all of it but maybe it gets things straight in your head and you hear something you may have missed.”
He barked a dark laugh and said, “I don’t think there’s anything new to the fact that I’m on quarter pay for six months and after that, assuming they don’t stick me counting beans some place, I get separation with disability severance pay. And what that means is that I get pay equal to 2 months basic pay for each of the 8 years I put in.”
“Sixteen months of pay doesn’t sound like something to sneeze at.”
“It’s not but it will go quick if I don’t have a job lined up. I can’t live on Auntie’s good will forever.”
“You’re not living on it now. You said you take care of the electric and stuff like that around here for your room and board.”
“For as long as it lasts, sure. But … oh hell, I doubt I need to explain it to you.”
No he didn’t. Just because I am most people’s idea of a kid doesn’t mean that I haven’t tried to be financially responsible for myself for a while.
Aunt Orélie wasn’t exaggerating when she said I’d be hopping. And not just on Tuesday but the entire week. See I forgot that Thanksgiving was coming on Thursday. Geez Louise. I’m not especially fond of holidays to start with but this one was made even worse by being cut off from the one thing that normally got me through … work. Or should I say work that took me away from all the holiday hullabaloo.
Tuesday morning breakfast was no big deal. Auntie asked if I would do her a favor by making up omelets since it was just her, Sarge, and me and she had a morning meeting scheduled with the lawyers. Which lawyers that was I didn’t ask since it was none of my business. Fabrice was still off with the man called Dante and wouldn’t be back until after school and she said she’d be back before then. “I wouldn’t leave him for you to watch. He’ll probably be wired up stupid like he is every time that man has him for visitation,” predicted Aunt Orélie with disgust.
Sarge was feeling better physically but seemed in a funk all the same. It came out why but to say I wasn’t happy was an understatement.
“Ava, we need to work on you getting a driver’s license,” he told me during breakfast.
“I can’t afford one right now, not even a learner’s. And I still need to fix the tire on my bike. For now my feets are going to have to do. You need something in particular?”
He looked at me in aggravation and said, “Hard head. Why didn’t you say so? You averse to asking for help?”
A little taken aback by his tone I answered, “Not averse, just cautious. Don’t take it personal Sarge I …”
And here came more cranky. “I thought we agreed you’d call me Em.”
Seems his morning personality is near lovely as mine. I swallowed my bite of toast then said, “I call you Em because other people act weird when I call you Sarge. I call you Sarge when other people aren’t involved because that is what you are, and it seems more respectful. Just like when other military people are around I call you Sgt. Jeansonne. But if you don’t like me calling you Sarge I won’t.”
He drew breath to say something I probably wouldn’t have like but stopped. He sighed and shook his head. “I’m foul, but not at you. Don’t take it personal.”
I snorted. “You took my line. I rarely take things personal unless they are meant personal.” I thought I’d started a conversation but he was silent. “Sarge? Er … Em? Is there something I can do?”
I didn’t think he was going to answer but after making sure that Auntie was all the way out of the house he said, “I want you to step lightly around Kramer if he stays assigned here. I’m hoping he gets moved to another area.”
A little confused I said, “I thought you two were friends.”
“He imagines he is being my friend.”
It took me two seconds to take in the look on his face and put it together. I slammed my fork down and caught Sarge off guard with my anger. “Ava?”
I don’t like throwing tantrums but I was real close and struggling not to show my backside. “You know he gave ‘the talk’ to Zeb and the rest of those guys?! Now maybe … maybe … I can understand if he is one of those stupid protective types and thinks I’m just a piece of trash someone scraped off their boot. I mean some of those boys are nearly neon green and Zeb is probably not the only one with family that hooked them up with the Colonel in hopes of keeping them out of action. So … I get it. Don’t like it, but I get it. Sort of. You on the other hand? Just why would he warn you off? I’d never pay you back that way. And you aren’t interested in jailbait which is probably all you think of me as.”
“Now I never said …”
“You didn’t have to. Kramer has already gone out of his way to make his opinion of me and my morals known.”
“What the hell?! Quand était-ce?”
“Don’t matter and I wasn’t going to make a stink of it right now because he’s got a job to do and just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean that changes reality. I know my place better than Kramer ever could.”
“Ava …”
“Seriously Sarge … I don’t want anyone taking up my cause when it is only going to create more problems. I have to stand up for myself in this life. What Kramer thinks … I’m not going to let it get out of hand by paying more attention to it than I have to. I’ll be circumspect … assuming he’ll let me. On the other hand though, Kramer needs to keep his own gonads under control and deflate both the big and little head of his.”
“Ava!”
“What do you expect me to say?! He’s got sex on the brain! Or he has some seriously messed up ideas about females. Or both. Just because I have a ball and he has a bat doesn’t mean I’m looking for someone to take a swing. From him or anyone else for that matter. I swear every time I turn around someone is trying to make something out of …”
It sounded like there was a gator on the other side of the table for a sec then Sarge says, “You little hell cat, now you listen to me … stay away from Kramer. Yeah, he’s got two ex-wives and working on his third. It may have … colored his view a little. But that isn’t your problem.”
“No it sure ain’t,” I snapped. “But apparently he’s looking for a target to take his bad choices out on.”
He sighed like he was disappointed and said, “Yeah. He is. I never would have thought it of him but there’s other things.”
“Like him being a bully? Like him being two-faced? Like him being …”
“Whoa, just whoa. What kind of run in with him did you have?”
“Not much of one because it got interrupted but he was jacking up for something … something I would not have won. But I saw that two-face act when he was so nasty to me but was able to hide it real fast – like he’s had practice – when the Colonel came down the hall. Kramer is a nasty piece. I don’t want any trouble with him, but I got a bad feeling he’s picked me to make trouble for.” My temper under control I admitted, “I can’t afford what it will cost me if he doesn’t back off. The man threatened to have me thrown in a refugee camp for troublemakers.”
“Merde! Did he say that or just hint at it?”
“Said it flat out. He seems the type that would do it too. How bad is he for Zeb and the rest of ‘em?”
“Quelle?”
“If a man will abuse his authority on someone that has no defense against it what else will he abuse?”
He gave me a thoughtful look. “You stay away from Kramer,” he said calmly. “Don’t let him get you one on one. If he tries you tell him you’ve been instructed to avoid one on one situations with anyone of the opposite gender. If he … if he don’t back off then you run. Understand?”
“Unfortunately,” I told him.
“They’re going to be back for lunch. You aren’t going to be here.”
“Hey!”
“Don’t fight me on this Ava, I’m not asking for anything you won’t be able to accept. And you ain’t running either, not this time, you’re going to be working. But it is going to be outta Kramer”s reach. I’m going to drop you and my truck and trailer off at the Farmer’s Market and go see a man about a job. And get that look off your face; it’s a job for me not you. Got my papers yesterday.”
“Papers?”
“MEB – the medical evaluation board – had already referred me to PEB. I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
I surprised him by knowing, “The Physical Evaluation Board.” At his look I shrugged. “Guy I used to work for that owned a Surplus Store didn’t have a lot of good to say about the system. He was force-retired short of what he needed for some kind of payments or something. I didn’t understand all of it, but I know what you mean.”
Sarge sat up straighter in his chair and I could see he was trying to ease his back some. “I … I expected this. Didn’t want it but it is better than being dead. I can’t run or bend right now. Can’t lift worth a damn. No way am I fit for combat; I’d endanger everyone around me. They thought they were doing me a favor putting me on the TDRL list – giving me time to recover – but … it … it just ain’t going too well. I’m just not going to be fit for deployment any time in the near future.”
“I’m real sorry Sarge.”
“Yeah, me too. It is going to be fun to go home and have to tell my mother and brother. Gonna make Thanksgiving hard.”
“Why do you have to?”
“’Cause my mother is not getting any younger and I learned the hard way that the last time you say goodbye to someone might be the last time you get to say goodbye to someone.” He saw right away that he had twanged something that I didn’t like to think about too often. “Ava …”
“Don’t sweat it. But like you said, it is a hard way to learn.”
“Yeah it is. Worse though is that they are going to keep me on the TDRL list for another six months before they turn me completely loose. Just on the off chance they find something they need me to do. And it isn’t going to be at full pay either. At the end of that … oh hell, you don’t need to hear …”
“Hey Sarge, just go ahead and talk. I may not understand all of it but maybe it gets things straight in your head and you hear something you may have missed.”
He barked a dark laugh and said, “I don’t think there’s anything new to the fact that I’m on quarter pay for six months and after that, assuming they don’t stick me counting beans some place, I get separation with disability severance pay. And what that means is that I get pay equal to 2 months basic pay for each of the 8 years I put in.”
“Sixteen months of pay doesn’t sound like something to sneeze at.”
“It’s not but it will go quick if I don’t have a job lined up. I can’t live on Auntie’s good will forever.”
“You’re not living on it now. You said you take care of the electric and stuff like that around here for your room and board.”
“For as long as it lasts, sure. But … oh hell, I doubt I need to explain it to you.”
No he didn’t. Just because I am most people’s idea of a kid doesn’t mean that I haven’t tried to be financially responsible for myself for a while.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
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