sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you, but sometimes you can't stay there if there are necessary things one has to have lol.
Story Nann
- Thread starter Kathy in FL
- Start date
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Personally, that close to the edge of you-know-who, I'd stay a tad more focused ....just saying.
G.
Chapter 21
“Hold still Mitch. There’s another sawbriar thorn in the back of your arm. I didn’t see it until I got all these scratches cleaned up. At least next time wear more than a t-shirt.”
He sighed. “You’re still mad.”
“I’m trying not to be,” I told him. “But you don’t make it easy. Next time warn me when you’re gonna go recon or whatever he-men call what you were doing. All you said was ‘stay here’ and I didn’t know whether to keep minding you after it had been two hours, then three, or worry you were waitin’ on me to get a brain and come find you ‘cause you’d gotten hurt and were laying someplace bleeding to death.” I tried to wipe the tears from my eyes without him seeing me, but he caught me anyway.
“I was gone longer than I meant to be, but it was needful.”
Still angry but not at Mitch this time I said, “Getting shot up is not needful.”
“I didn’t get shot up,” he denied.
“Shot up. Shot at. Same difference.”
“Not hardly,” Mitch said gruffly before slowly pulling me into his arms. “It worked out Nann and now there’s one less thing we have to worry about and a few more things for our cache. Now you up for running the van over to the Winters place? We need to do it in the dark and my night vision still isn’t real good.”
The van in question, more bread truck than passenger van, had been caught in a battle between two groups of what were either vigilantes or scavengers fleeing from the bombing run being made by the jets. The vibration we felt was the jets dropping bombs … not close enough for us to hear down in the cellar but close enough for vibrations to travel through the ground. Reminded me a bit of that old movie Jurassic park in the scenes that presaged the appearance of the Tyrannosaurus Rex. The two groups Mitch had seen must have gotten lost trying to avoid getting made into potholes as the jets dropped their loads.
We were still trying to figure out how they had gotten so close with the bridge dropped and coming from the valley side and not the Ridge which is the direction I had been forced to come because of that lone bridge being dropped. But that was a question less important, for now, than what the jets had been doing.
Mitch had been giving their targets some thought and told me, “I’m pretty sure the military was taking out the easy travel routes, like the interstate, highways, bridges, and I think they may have even done for Harlan Dam.”
“How do you know? That’s a lot of big money they were blowing up if no one was on them to be blown up at the same time,” I said thinking of Uncle Hy and how he would likely have approved such a move since he’d blown a bridge down on his own.
“Sure was. I wasn’t inclined to believe the first group I ran across until I heard the second group saying similar things,” he said. “And as a tactic it tells you someone is serious about holding the line this time.”
“It isn’t going to stop planes,” I said after thinking about what we’d already witnessed.
Mitch showed his life experience by explaining it to me. “No, but it won’t let troop support and supply advance as quickly as it has after the last incursions either.”
“We can hope,” I muttered trying to hide how emotionally strung out I was feeling. “Let me put on my work clothes and I’ll help unload the rest of the stuff from the van.”
“Nann …”
“I’m … I’m fine. Just … clue me in before you leave next time.”
“You’ll still worry.”
“Yeah, but I’ll have facts to worry with and not WAGS.”
“Nannette … that mouth.”
I gave him a look to let him know I wouldn’t appreciate a lecture. “I’m trying to be mature and not throw a hissy and give you some serious what for right now.”
Mitch didn’t seem inclined to turn me loose so I stayed still.
“I’ll try next time. I just keep getting’ surprised by the fact of you.”
“Huh?”
“I ain’t alone. Dad and Grammy are gone. My eyes might never be 20/20 again. Further I step outside the farm life just ain’t great. But I ain’t in this alone.” He sighed regretfully. “And … I have to be more careful not to … to make you alone. I had to do what I did Nann … but I coulda … I coulda at least said something. Or at least made sure we had a plan in case we get separated. We’ll work on it and work something out.”
I nodded and his holding me turned into a brief, tight hug. Then it was back up the stairs and out the back door.
I asked, “You sure they all shot themselves to death?”
“Yeah.”
I heard it, and knew that he was protecting me from something, and that the something was likely him … being a soldier during wartime. He was also my Boss Dog so I let him protect me. It was a compromise I could make … at least this time.
Changing subjects rather than risk the other one turning into an unwinnable argument I asked, “Why is everything all turned upside down and in a mess in the van? Your driving isn’t that bad.”
He reached over and popped me with his hat. “Polish that act up and it might take you somewhere some day.”
“Uh uh. Like it here just fine,” I told him, finding a small grin now that I was convinced Mitch was really back and in one piece.
“Hold still Mitch. There’s another sawbriar thorn in the back of your arm. I didn’t see it until I got all these scratches cleaned up. At least next time wear more than a t-shirt.”
He sighed. “You’re still mad.”
“I’m trying not to be,” I told him. “But you don’t make it easy. Next time warn me when you’re gonna go recon or whatever he-men call what you were doing. All you said was ‘stay here’ and I didn’t know whether to keep minding you after it had been two hours, then three, or worry you were waitin’ on me to get a brain and come find you ‘cause you’d gotten hurt and were laying someplace bleeding to death.” I tried to wipe the tears from my eyes without him seeing me, but he caught me anyway.
“I was gone longer than I meant to be, but it was needful.”
Still angry but not at Mitch this time I said, “Getting shot up is not needful.”
“I didn’t get shot up,” he denied.
“Shot up. Shot at. Same difference.”
“Not hardly,” Mitch said gruffly before slowly pulling me into his arms. “It worked out Nann and now there’s one less thing we have to worry about and a few more things for our cache. Now you up for running the van over to the Winters place? We need to do it in the dark and my night vision still isn’t real good.”
The van in question, more bread truck than passenger van, had been caught in a battle between two groups of what were either vigilantes or scavengers fleeing from the bombing run being made by the jets. The vibration we felt was the jets dropping bombs … not close enough for us to hear down in the cellar but close enough for vibrations to travel through the ground. Reminded me a bit of that old movie Jurassic park in the scenes that presaged the appearance of the Tyrannosaurus Rex. The two groups Mitch had seen must have gotten lost trying to avoid getting made into potholes as the jets dropped their loads.
We were still trying to figure out how they had gotten so close with the bridge dropped and coming from the valley side and not the Ridge which is the direction I had been forced to come because of that lone bridge being dropped. But that was a question less important, for now, than what the jets had been doing.
Mitch had been giving their targets some thought and told me, “I’m pretty sure the military was taking out the easy travel routes, like the interstate, highways, bridges, and I think they may have even done for Harlan Dam.”
“How do you know? That’s a lot of big money they were blowing up if no one was on them to be blown up at the same time,” I said thinking of Uncle Hy and how he would likely have approved such a move since he’d blown a bridge down on his own.
“Sure was. I wasn’t inclined to believe the first group I ran across until I heard the second group saying similar things,” he said. “And as a tactic it tells you someone is serious about holding the line this time.”
“It isn’t going to stop planes,” I said after thinking about what we’d already witnessed.
Mitch showed his life experience by explaining it to me. “No, but it won’t let troop support and supply advance as quickly as it has after the last incursions either.”
“We can hope,” I muttered trying to hide how emotionally strung out I was feeling. “Let me put on my work clothes and I’ll help unload the rest of the stuff from the van.”
“Nann …”
“I’m … I’m fine. Just … clue me in before you leave next time.”
“You’ll still worry.”
“Yeah, but I’ll have facts to worry with and not WAGS.”
“Nannette … that mouth.”
I gave him a look to let him know I wouldn’t appreciate a lecture. “I’m trying to be mature and not throw a hissy and give you some serious what for right now.”
Mitch didn’t seem inclined to turn me loose so I stayed still.
“I’ll try next time. I just keep getting’ surprised by the fact of you.”
“Huh?”
“I ain’t alone. Dad and Grammy are gone. My eyes might never be 20/20 again. Further I step outside the farm life just ain’t great. But I ain’t in this alone.” He sighed regretfully. “And … I have to be more careful not to … to make you alone. I had to do what I did Nann … but I coulda … I coulda at least said something. Or at least made sure we had a plan in case we get separated. We’ll work on it and work something out.”
I nodded and his holding me turned into a brief, tight hug. Then it was back up the stairs and out the back door.
I asked, “You sure they all shot themselves to death?”
“Yeah.”
I heard it, and knew that he was protecting me from something, and that the something was likely him … being a soldier during wartime. He was also my Boss Dog so I let him protect me. It was a compromise I could make … at least this time.
Changing subjects rather than risk the other one turning into an unwinnable argument I asked, “Why is everything all turned upside down and in a mess in the van? Your driving isn’t that bad.”
He reached over and popped me with his hat. “Polish that act up and it might take you somewhere some day.”
“Uh uh. Like it here just fine,” I told him, finding a small grin now that I was convinced Mitch was really back and in one piece.
Jeepcats27
Senior Member
Nice way to start the day, thank you Kathy!
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Big thanks for the new chapter. Yes, who are they fighting?
Sportsman
Veteran Member
Thank you. Who are they fighting? I think we're supposed to figure that out from the hints she drops from time-to-time. Or, she'll eventually tell us more of the back story. When she decides what it is! Thank you, Kathy. Play it right and this one could last us until this Fall!
Chapter 22
“The mess is likely where they had to combine another load into this one real quick. Maybe they took it off the other group and that’s why they were fighting,” Mitch said answering one of my earlier questions about the mess in the van.
“Sounds possible,” I responded.
“So do some other scenarios but no sense wasting time on it.” Picking up another box of cans Mitch asked, “Room for this stuff in the cellar?”
“And more besides. Cans are easier to stack than jars. Even adding all this stuff, we still have a lot of food storage space without having to store it in the new sleeping area. Grammy told me the house was built back when the family hardly ever went to the grocery store so needed storage space for everything they needed during the year, including the coal and kerosene. Material and stuff like that was stored in that weird room up in the attic … the one that looks like a cedar chest turned on its side.”
We both continued to drag in what had been in the large step van. Mitch said, “Surprised there’s not more damage to the cargo than there is. Them bullet holes in the roll down in the back … ain’t seeing no punctured cans, so the holes come from before the van was loaded.”
“Some of the cans are dented.”
“Not as many as I got used to seeing in a haul like this. This ain’t your average salvage. They either hit a warehouse or … I don’t know …” He scratched his head then continued moving stuff to the porch. “That barrel of odds and ends you helped me to get down the stairs is more like it should be; not full of cases of cans.”
“What about the tubs?” I asked referring to the large storage totes that Mitch had already taken inside.
“That was out of the other van that the other group was driving. That group was likely a straight up salvage operation. One tub holds rice, two tubs hold beans, one tub holds pasta noodles, there’s a tub of sugar, and another one of salt. But it’s obvious that it didn’t come from the same container to start with.”
Rolling my eyes I said, “You ain’t kidding. I don’t even know what variety some of those dried beans are. I swear a couple of them are marked like Uncle Hy’s old appaloosa horse he had when I was little. And whoever heard of mixing table salt, sea salt, ice cream salt, and Himalayan pink salt all together like that? And don’t even get me started on the mess in the sugar tub. I just hope it is all sugar.”
“I do admit it looks a mess but that’s what I’ve seen done. You should see it when they mix in that colored sugar like Grammy used to sprinkle on her Christmas cookies.” He shook his head leading me to understand that it must have been really strange. He continued by explaining, “Too much work for your average salvager to keep things separate. Saves space if you get rid of the packaging as well. They trade or barter their stock by weight or by measure rather than by package.”
“I understand the why of it,” I told him. “It still just looks … I don’t know. Wrong somehow. And I find it hard to believe people are buying it in the mess it’s in.”
Stopping for a moment to wipe his face with a bandana Mitch told me, “Nann, desperate people are willing to settle for strange things. People figure out they got a hole in their needs, then their want of spiffy packaging ain’t near so important as it used to be.”
“I suppose. About like the plain black and while labels on the commodities I guess and how people hated them at first but then got used to them when there just wasn’t anything else. It still looks strange though and I can’t imagine what Mom and Aunt Fran will say about it. But … I’ll be honest … I ain’t got a whole lot of motivation to separate the dried beans into new containers by like and hope they don’t get that stray hair either.”
With a little bite to his tone Mitch said, “I’m not worried about Aunt Dina. Your mom is a realist. As for Aunt Fran, she better find it in her to be one and quick. It’s our butts working overtime. If anyone wants to complain then they can learn fast to live without.”
Changing the subject a bit since I’d struck a nerve I hadn’t meant to I said, “Look, I got a question for you. Do … um … look you reckon while we’re finishing up getting the beehives and stuff I can look and see if Mr. Delray left jars and stuff too? Would it be considered stealing? I know that’s how he used to store the honey when he was sending it to flea markets and stuff to be sold. I just thought … you know … um …” I stopped on a shrug.
He lost his irritation and said, “That’s not a bad idea … looking for jars and lids. But what’s your reasoning? We’ve already got more work than we can shack a stick at and I don’t see the list getting shorter anytime soon. And I told you it isn’t stealing under the current circumstances so knock it off.”
“But …”
“Nann, we aren’t turning around and selling stuff like the salvagers do. We might be repurposing any that we find, but not to make a ton of money off other people’s misery.”
“Okay, don’t snap at me please. I’m just trying to … to wrap my head around all of this. And, to be honest, I’m not just talking about jars per se but containers for storing things in. I’m grateful for all this stuff … really I am … what you call bulk supplies. But we can’t leave them in plastic or cardboard. I do NOT want a repeat of the two weeks I spent last summer when Grammy found a mouse turd in the pantry. We never did find the mouse it belonged to, but Grammy still had me … uh uh, forget it … just don’t want a repeat. Also wouldn’t mind finding any mouse/rat repellent or poison since we used so much at the Winters place to keep from having a problem start.” Acid came up my throat at the memory and I had to shake it off.
Mitch grunted in understanding then rubbed his forehead and since I knew he wouldn’t stop that I’d have to do it for him. I told him, “Too late to do any of that tonight either way. Sun is almost down. Let’s move this van.”
After a tired nod he said, “Sounds good. We’ll drain the fuel as well so let me grab a container.”
“And when we get back you let me make you up a compress for your eyes. It helped last time.”
With a concerned look he asked, “I was gonna put some salve on your hands. Don’t you want me to? You still upset?”
“Don’t get silly ‘cause it’s embarrassing how much I like it. It’s just it’s my turn to do something for you.”
He looked at me kinda squinty then grinned tiredly. “Don’t try so hard to save my pride. You’ll give me a fat head. And I’ll ‘let you’ do me that favor so long as I get a solid gold rain check on salving your hands.”
Even with his sore eyes Mitch saw me blush and that turned his tired grin into an actual smile.
“The mess is likely where they had to combine another load into this one real quick. Maybe they took it off the other group and that’s why they were fighting,” Mitch said answering one of my earlier questions about the mess in the van.
“Sounds possible,” I responded.
“So do some other scenarios but no sense wasting time on it.” Picking up another box of cans Mitch asked, “Room for this stuff in the cellar?”
“And more besides. Cans are easier to stack than jars. Even adding all this stuff, we still have a lot of food storage space without having to store it in the new sleeping area. Grammy told me the house was built back when the family hardly ever went to the grocery store so needed storage space for everything they needed during the year, including the coal and kerosene. Material and stuff like that was stored in that weird room up in the attic … the one that looks like a cedar chest turned on its side.”
We both continued to drag in what had been in the large step van. Mitch said, “Surprised there’s not more damage to the cargo than there is. Them bullet holes in the roll down in the back … ain’t seeing no punctured cans, so the holes come from before the van was loaded.”
“Some of the cans are dented.”
“Not as many as I got used to seeing in a haul like this. This ain’t your average salvage. They either hit a warehouse or … I don’t know …” He scratched his head then continued moving stuff to the porch. “That barrel of odds and ends you helped me to get down the stairs is more like it should be; not full of cases of cans.”
“What about the tubs?” I asked referring to the large storage totes that Mitch had already taken inside.
“That was out of the other van that the other group was driving. That group was likely a straight up salvage operation. One tub holds rice, two tubs hold beans, one tub holds pasta noodles, there’s a tub of sugar, and another one of salt. But it’s obvious that it didn’t come from the same container to start with.”
Rolling my eyes I said, “You ain’t kidding. I don’t even know what variety some of those dried beans are. I swear a couple of them are marked like Uncle Hy’s old appaloosa horse he had when I was little. And whoever heard of mixing table salt, sea salt, ice cream salt, and Himalayan pink salt all together like that? And don’t even get me started on the mess in the sugar tub. I just hope it is all sugar.”
“I do admit it looks a mess but that’s what I’ve seen done. You should see it when they mix in that colored sugar like Grammy used to sprinkle on her Christmas cookies.” He shook his head leading me to understand that it must have been really strange. He continued by explaining, “Too much work for your average salvager to keep things separate. Saves space if you get rid of the packaging as well. They trade or barter their stock by weight or by measure rather than by package.”
“I understand the why of it,” I told him. “It still just looks … I don’t know. Wrong somehow. And I find it hard to believe people are buying it in the mess it’s in.”
Stopping for a moment to wipe his face with a bandana Mitch told me, “Nann, desperate people are willing to settle for strange things. People figure out they got a hole in their needs, then their want of spiffy packaging ain’t near so important as it used to be.”
“I suppose. About like the plain black and while labels on the commodities I guess and how people hated them at first but then got used to them when there just wasn’t anything else. It still looks strange though and I can’t imagine what Mom and Aunt Fran will say about it. But … I’ll be honest … I ain’t got a whole lot of motivation to separate the dried beans into new containers by like and hope they don’t get that stray hair either.”
With a little bite to his tone Mitch said, “I’m not worried about Aunt Dina. Your mom is a realist. As for Aunt Fran, she better find it in her to be one and quick. It’s our butts working overtime. If anyone wants to complain then they can learn fast to live without.”
Changing the subject a bit since I’d struck a nerve I hadn’t meant to I said, “Look, I got a question for you. Do … um … look you reckon while we’re finishing up getting the beehives and stuff I can look and see if Mr. Delray left jars and stuff too? Would it be considered stealing? I know that’s how he used to store the honey when he was sending it to flea markets and stuff to be sold. I just thought … you know … um …” I stopped on a shrug.
He lost his irritation and said, “That’s not a bad idea … looking for jars and lids. But what’s your reasoning? We’ve already got more work than we can shack a stick at and I don’t see the list getting shorter anytime soon. And I told you it isn’t stealing under the current circumstances so knock it off.”
“But …”
“Nann, we aren’t turning around and selling stuff like the salvagers do. We might be repurposing any that we find, but not to make a ton of money off other people’s misery.”
“Okay, don’t snap at me please. I’m just trying to … to wrap my head around all of this. And, to be honest, I’m not just talking about jars per se but containers for storing things in. I’m grateful for all this stuff … really I am … what you call bulk supplies. But we can’t leave them in plastic or cardboard. I do NOT want a repeat of the two weeks I spent last summer when Grammy found a mouse turd in the pantry. We never did find the mouse it belonged to, but Grammy still had me … uh uh, forget it … just don’t want a repeat. Also wouldn’t mind finding any mouse/rat repellent or poison since we used so much at the Winters place to keep from having a problem start.” Acid came up my throat at the memory and I had to shake it off.
Mitch grunted in understanding then rubbed his forehead and since I knew he wouldn’t stop that I’d have to do it for him. I told him, “Too late to do any of that tonight either way. Sun is almost down. Let’s move this van.”
After a tired nod he said, “Sounds good. We’ll drain the fuel as well so let me grab a container.”
“And when we get back you let me make you up a compress for your eyes. It helped last time.”
With a concerned look he asked, “I was gonna put some salve on your hands. Don’t you want me to? You still upset?”
“Don’t get silly ‘cause it’s embarrassing how much I like it. It’s just it’s my turn to do something for you.”
He looked at me kinda squinty then grinned tiredly. “Don’t try so hard to save my pride. You’ll give me a fat head. And I’ll ‘let you’ do me that favor so long as I get a solid gold rain check on salving your hands.”
Even with his sore eyes Mitch saw me blush and that turned his tired grin into an actual smile.
Jeepcats27
Senior Member
Thanks for the new chapter!
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you, always nice.
No. At least I don't think so. Ice cream salt is more like the salt you pour on ice to melt it up north.
MORTON® ICE CREAM SALT - Morton Salt
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Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
it's been a very long time since HS Chem for me so I don't remember if its Sodium or Chloride that triggers melting in ice but pretty much any salt will do it I think - those specialty salts like ice cream, kosher, sea salt etc, et al are too expensive although. I have used table salt on the steps in a pinch many years ago
Thank you, ma'am.
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Chapter 23
I heard someone whispering, “Dump? Nann? Nanette?”
I was exhausted and barely registered someone trying to get my attention. But I was in no mood to wake up. We’d done a crapton of work, driven the van to the Winters place and ditched it, then had to walk back to the farm, in the dark, carrying the last of the fuel which there had been more of than expected when we realized there were two gas tanks on the thing. I rolled over and sighed as I got good and comfortable. I heard a groan but that was about it then went completely back to sleep.
I woke up sometime well before dawn and thinking I might be hogging the bed I tried to move and then nearly screamed when I found myself suddenly pinned under Mitch.
I swallowed hard and squeaked out, “Mitch?”
He grunted then I felt him jerk in surprise, then tense, before rolling off me and sit up on the side of the bed. It sounded like he was trying to find his boots in the dark.
“Mitch?” I asked again.
“I … did I … did I hurt you?”
Still feeling fuzzy headed I answered, “No. Scared me a little until I figured out it was you. Then … uh …”
“Uh?”
I cleared my throat. “Don’t laugh please. I … uh … wasn’t sure if I was awake or … you know … dreaming.”
He got real still then asked, “Nightmare?”
“No. And please don’t make me explain.”
“Oh. You … you sure I didn’t …”
“You didn’t. But I was hogging the bed. I was trying to give you some room … I think that’s what I was doing anyway. Only then … um …”
Almost like he was no more sure than I was what was going on he said, “Yeah. About that um. You … you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m okay. Are you?”
Mitch snorted and I could feel the tension ease up. “You make this too easy.”
“Huh?”
“You should be …”
“Should be what?”
“Nann, this ain’t a great time for me to try and work my way through that particular conversation. I gotta lay down. My head feels about ready to split open.”
“Why didn’t you say so?! I’ll …”
“No. Just … just let me lay down. Seems like I haven’t slept in days.”
I fluffed his pillow by feel since we still hadn’t turned on the lantern and I straightened the covers, but instead of laying down normal he pulled me to him and then laid his head on my … er … chest.
“You mind?” he asked sounding really groggy.
What was I supposed to say? “No.”
And believe it or not I fell back to sleep almost as fast as he did.
# # # # #
“Nann?”
It was a couple of hours later. Lots later than we normally slept. It threw us both off and we were already both kind of tense only making it worse.
“Hm?” I answered trying to prove I could be mature.
“You … you mad at me?” Mitch asked.
“No. Are … um … are you upset with me?”
He sighed. “Naw. C’mere.”
I turned but that’s all I had space to do because Mitch was right there looking down at me. “You’re still … pristine. You know that right?”
I sighed. “So long as you don’t think I’m a … a …”
“A what?”
“A floozy.”
The look on his face was a cross between a frozen fish with its mouth stuck open and an irritated goat. It was not pleasant to look upon. “A …?! Of course I don’t think any such thing!” Then in a concerned tone he asked, “Do you think I do?”
“I … wasn’t sure. I’m … I’m just sorry if I’m why your head hurt and …” I shrugged and tried to turn away but didn’t get the chance.
“Nann, I’m screwing this up dammit. Let’s get this ironed out before it messes things up.” After we sat, he said, “I had a headache for the same reason I’ve had ‘em before. Definitely not because of you. As for last night, early this morning, hell if I know what time it was … I liked it. I was just worried that you didn’t or that we’re moving too fast. I wasn’t all the way awake when I jumped on you. I guess I was dreaming and you were trying to get away or something. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
A little surprised but honestly more just flabbergasted and not sure what I was supposed to be. I said, “Oh. Well. I must have liked it because I was comfortable and slept good and hard, usually I am a real light sleeper. I just didn’t want you to start wondering … um … if I wasn’t … er … you know … in pristine condition.”
He snorted. “I’m not wondering that. Not at all. Even a complete knucklehead can see you’re pristine. But see here, what I’m wondering is if … um … you have a problem if we keep … enjoying it so long as … er … you feel safe.”
I thought about it then asked, “Can … can we keep things in the … er … garage? Um … I’m … I’m not ready for … for driving.”
He seemed relieved. “Sure. And look at me Nann ‘cause this is important. You can always say no.”
I was afraid of letting too much fall out of my mouth so I simply said, “Oh.”
Then he added something I didn’t expect. “And there might be times that even if you don’t, I might feel the need to.”
“Because you’re Boss Dog?”
“No. Because … okay, well there is some of that in there but mostly because I’m supposed to look out for you … all the time and not just when it … when it’s easy. I promised to protect you, and that means from me too. So don’t you worry about that. You’re gonna stay pristine until I have permission one way or the other. Okay?”
And then for whatever reason it was suddenly just all okay again because he was Mitch and I had learned I could trust him. But something had definitely changed.
I heard someone whispering, “Dump? Nann? Nanette?”
I was exhausted and barely registered someone trying to get my attention. But I was in no mood to wake up. We’d done a crapton of work, driven the van to the Winters place and ditched it, then had to walk back to the farm, in the dark, carrying the last of the fuel which there had been more of than expected when we realized there were two gas tanks on the thing. I rolled over and sighed as I got good and comfortable. I heard a groan but that was about it then went completely back to sleep.
I woke up sometime well before dawn and thinking I might be hogging the bed I tried to move and then nearly screamed when I found myself suddenly pinned under Mitch.
I swallowed hard and squeaked out, “Mitch?”
He grunted then I felt him jerk in surprise, then tense, before rolling off me and sit up on the side of the bed. It sounded like he was trying to find his boots in the dark.
“Mitch?” I asked again.
“I … did I … did I hurt you?”
Still feeling fuzzy headed I answered, “No. Scared me a little until I figured out it was you. Then … uh …”
“Uh?”
I cleared my throat. “Don’t laugh please. I … uh … wasn’t sure if I was awake or … you know … dreaming.”
He got real still then asked, “Nightmare?”
“No. And please don’t make me explain.”
“Oh. You … you sure I didn’t …”
“You didn’t. But I was hogging the bed. I was trying to give you some room … I think that’s what I was doing anyway. Only then … um …”
Almost like he was no more sure than I was what was going on he said, “Yeah. About that um. You … you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m okay. Are you?”
Mitch snorted and I could feel the tension ease up. “You make this too easy.”
“Huh?”
“You should be …”
“Should be what?”
“Nann, this ain’t a great time for me to try and work my way through that particular conversation. I gotta lay down. My head feels about ready to split open.”
“Why didn’t you say so?! I’ll …”
“No. Just … just let me lay down. Seems like I haven’t slept in days.”
I fluffed his pillow by feel since we still hadn’t turned on the lantern and I straightened the covers, but instead of laying down normal he pulled me to him and then laid his head on my … er … chest.
“You mind?” he asked sounding really groggy.
What was I supposed to say? “No.”
And believe it or not I fell back to sleep almost as fast as he did.
# # # # #
“Nann?”
It was a couple of hours later. Lots later than we normally slept. It threw us both off and we were already both kind of tense only making it worse.
“Hm?” I answered trying to prove I could be mature.
“You … you mad at me?” Mitch asked.
“No. Are … um … are you upset with me?”
He sighed. “Naw. C’mere.”
I turned but that’s all I had space to do because Mitch was right there looking down at me. “You’re still … pristine. You know that right?”
I sighed. “So long as you don’t think I’m a … a …”
“A what?”
“A floozy.”
The look on his face was a cross between a frozen fish with its mouth stuck open and an irritated goat. It was not pleasant to look upon. “A …?! Of course I don’t think any such thing!” Then in a concerned tone he asked, “Do you think I do?”
“I … wasn’t sure. I’m … I’m just sorry if I’m why your head hurt and …” I shrugged and tried to turn away but didn’t get the chance.
“Nann, I’m screwing this up dammit. Let’s get this ironed out before it messes things up.” After we sat, he said, “I had a headache for the same reason I’ve had ‘em before. Definitely not because of you. As for last night, early this morning, hell if I know what time it was … I liked it. I was just worried that you didn’t or that we’re moving too fast. I wasn’t all the way awake when I jumped on you. I guess I was dreaming and you were trying to get away or something. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
A little surprised but honestly more just flabbergasted and not sure what I was supposed to be. I said, “Oh. Well. I must have liked it because I was comfortable and slept good and hard, usually I am a real light sleeper. I just didn’t want you to start wondering … um … if I wasn’t … er … you know … in pristine condition.”
He snorted. “I’m not wondering that. Not at all. Even a complete knucklehead can see you’re pristine. But see here, what I’m wondering is if … um … you have a problem if we keep … enjoying it so long as … er … you feel safe.”
I thought about it then asked, “Can … can we keep things in the … er … garage? Um … I’m … I’m not ready for … for driving.”
He seemed relieved. “Sure. And look at me Nann ‘cause this is important. You can always say no.”
I was afraid of letting too much fall out of my mouth so I simply said, “Oh.”
Then he added something I didn’t expect. “And there might be times that even if you don’t, I might feel the need to.”
“Because you’re Boss Dog?”
“No. Because … okay, well there is some of that in there but mostly because I’m supposed to look out for you … all the time and not just when it … when it’s easy. I promised to protect you, and that means from me too. So don’t you worry about that. You’re gonna stay pristine until I have permission one way or the other. Okay?”
And then for whatever reason it was suddenly just all okay again because he was Mitch and I had learned I could trust him. But something had definitely changed.
Jeepcats27
Senior Member
Aaawwhhh how cute!