One Man's Opus: A Survival and Preparedness Story Read online

  “NEIN,” she said in a loud, clear voice.

  The dog let go and took a step back, still growling and snarling. The man held his bitten arm to his chest, blood dripping down his elbow, his eye already swelling up.

  “You want to call the cops for me?” she asked.

  “Okay, that was not how I was expecting to meet you again,” Tina said.

  The cops had already come, cuffed the man, towed his car and took our statements.

  “Likewise. I think I almost crapped my pants,” I told her, massaging my sore knuckles.

  She snickered. “Thought I smelled something.”

  We were sitting side by side in the visitor's chairs with Opus, her German Shepherd, in front of us. He was getting lavished with doggy treats and ear scratches while I tried to get myself under control. Fear and adrenaline do weird things, and so does having both of them hit your body at once. Especially when the most danger I usually faced is on the other side of a video game.

  “Are you going to close shop?” I asked her, ignoring her quip.

  “Not until 7pm.”

  “Ahhh. Why not? Boss isn’t going to let you shut down after almost getting robbed?”

  “Naw, my boss wouldn’t mind either way,” she told me with a grin.

  “I mean, he had a gun to your head and—”

  “I live here in the attached house; it’s not like I’m going anywhere, anyway. So why not stay open? Besides, Opus here will take care of me, won’t you, good buddy?”

  Her last words had gone from her usual singsong voice to that annoying baby voice grownups use around their kids. Still, the big furball seemed to like it, and his tail started thumping the floor in a rhythm.

  “So you came here to see me, or you looking to rent a unit?” Tina asked.

  I remembered what Al had told me of his suspicions. I took a deep breath.

  “Well, I bought a motor home. I can’t keep it at the apartment, and I have a week to figure out where to park it when I’m not using it.”

  “Ahhh. Okay, how big is it?” she asked.

  “Uhhhh, I just got it today. I got the books in my car,” I told her lamely.

  I did, though, and I stood to head to get it.

  “Opus, Geh Mit,” I heard Tina say, and the dog stood and stepped so close to my left leg I was worried he was trying to escape out the doorway.

  “Is he…?”

  “I’m working on his training. I just told him to go with you. Let him, would you?”

  “He won’t run off or chase cars or…”

  She laughed and, instead of facing her laughter, I walked out.

  “She always like that, Opus?” I asked him, letting my fingers stroke him behind the head in his thick mane of fur.

  He chuffed through his nose, and I took that as a yes. I reached in and got the two Ziplock packets of papers Al Sr. had given me, and went back inside. I showed them to Tina, who started going through them.

  “So, you’ve got a thirty-three-foot Pathfinder. It’s got the 2600 watt generator, built in 100-pound propane tanks and a 30 amp charger.”

  “Actually they said they upgraded that; the charge control board went out, and they replaced the whole unit.”

  “Huh, sounds like this was somebody’s project. Hope you got a good deal; it’s so old it’s not got hardly any electronics on it anywhere.”

  “Yeah, I got a good deal. A thousand bucks.”

  “Ouch, sorry.”

  “Why?” I asked her.

  “Nothing probably works. I guess if it runs and drives it’s worth more than that for just the motor; I mean, it’s a Chevy 454 big block with a 4 bolt mains on it..”

  Did I mention how she wasn’t my type? I may have been wrong or lied to myself unconvincingly. I started seeing her in a new light as she told me all about my new purchase.

  “Okay, so about the price for a spot to park it?” I asked her.

  “Oh, um… I have a deal for you.”

  “First month’s free, just like the sign says?” I asked her.

  “No, no. If you help me clean out some units once in a while, I’ll let you park it here. Because it’s probably got propane still in it, it’ll go in the lot next to the pole barn.”

  “Clean out units?” I asked her.

  “Yeah, when people don’t pay their rent for six months, I auction the units off. Most of the time nobody shows up to the auction so I end up pitching a lot of it. It’s sometimes backbreaking for me.”

  “Oh, I dunno. Your boss too cheap to hire somebody to help you? I mean, don’t they have services? I saw this TV show once—”

  “My boss? No, my boss is just a thrifty single woman, who doesn’t want to cripple herself, so she can spend lots of time playing with Opus out back. Plus, I’d help you.”

  “Wait…”

  I am dumb, I am dumb, I am dumb…

  “Yeah, my parents left me this. I grew up in the house next door. When they retired and moved to Arizona, I bought the business from them.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “No worries. It’s not a normal job for people. And it’s nothing like the TV show. So, what do you say? Help me clean out some units, and I’ll give you free rent and let you park next to the barn where you can plug it in and work on it once in a while.”

  “I…”

  “Good. Here’s a gate key and the alarm code,” she said, writing something on a slip of paper and pushing it over to me.

  “Thanks,” I told her.

  “Don’t mention it. And hey, you don’t have to be weird around me. Not everyone likes laser tag.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  “No worries. I was just trying to get enough people together to get a team. That way I can stay warmed up when our paintball tournaments start up again.”

  A gentle breeze could have knocked me over. I wasn’t a paintball player, but this gal was. I so didn’t see that coming.

  “Okay, cool. Uh, so can I bring it in this week?” I asked her.

  “Sure, and if you need a hand driving or backing it up, I’ve spent my whole life helping people do it right here.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Was it weird if I wondered if Al kissed her? That was a weird thought. I walked out with a little wave and headed back to the apartment.

  3

  I got wrapped up in two storylines and watching my sales rankings bounce around, and forgot about the motorhome for a couple of days. I was just hitting publish on one book when I got a text alert. Since nobody really called me, I never silenced my phone. I flipped it over and saw a text from somebody I didn’t have saved in my contacts.

  Hey, want to help me clean out a unit today? I’ll help you drive the motorhome to the storage lot. – PS, this is Tina. Al gave me your number.

  Good old Al. I sighed and thumbed back a quick reply.

  Sure, I’m just finishing up for the day. When do you want a hand?

  Whenever. I have a forklift to move junk to the trash bin so we won’t have to carry stuff far.

  Be right there.

  I stood, stretched, and changed out of my day comfortable clothes and into jeans and a shirt. I left my Jaw’s Sperry deck shoes and instead grabbed an old pair of Sketchers I didn’t mind getting dirty, then I snagged my keys and headed out.

  “Did Tina call you, bro?” Al asked as I left my room.

  “No, she texted. I thought you were going to be at work all day?” I asked him, confused at him being home in the middle of the day.

  “Power outage. The electricians messed something up, so I’m on standby,” he said, making air quotes with his fingers.

  “Okay cool. I’m heading over to the storage lot to help her with something. Hey, did you know she owned that place?”

  “She does? That’s kinda cool. Independently wealthy. Maybe you should chat her up,” he said with a wink.

  “Wait, what was it about bros before hoes or whatever?”

  “That only applies while I was dati
ng her. Like I said, we didn’t mesh. You won’t hurt my feelings if you give her a ride in your motorhome,” he said, and then made some accompanying motions that had nothing to do with driving.

  If he only knew. I asked him if he wanted to join me, but he didn’t. He was texting the Taco Bell girl, probably eager for me to get out of the apartment. With that mental image trying to be erased, I headed out. The spring air was still a little cool, but it was before lunchtime in Michigan and I’d been up since 5 a.m. My stomach rumbled, and I hoped that it wouldn’t take long. There was a new burger joint south of me that did takeout.

  I pulled in and saw Opus running from the back of the fence line toward the front. I was still behind the gate, and hesitated. Instead of going through the gate, I went into the office.

  “Hello?” I called.

  I heard something and looked out the back door. I’d noticed the pole barn earlier, but coming out of it was a yellow forklift on rough terrain tires. Bouncing with the frame was a blue dumpster, barely on the forks… and bouncing along with all of that was Tina, who looked like she was about to fly off the seat. I watched for a second and then pushed open the door to head back to the storage units. I felt something bump me and looked down.

  Opus had bumped my hip and was walking next to me. I had forgotten about the dog for a moment, but apparently, he was still on duty. He wasn’t being protective or trying to run me off, he just seemed… The dog chuffed and I reached down and pet him on the scruff of the neck while we walked. It was less than fifty feet from the back door to the unit that she parked in front of.

  “Your mom knows how to do a lot of stuff, doesn’t she.”

  The dog chuffed and I heard the forklift shut off, and Tina hopped out with a pair of bolt cutters in her hand.

  “Hey, you made it over fast. Wanna cut the lock for me?” Tina asked, holding out the handles.

  “Sure.”

  “This is one of the units that didn’t get auctioned off. I usually cut the locks to show people it hasn’t been touched if they show up to the auction, but I leave them on if they don’t get sold. Keeps people and critters from making a mess of things.”

  “Or the people sneaking in and stealing their stuff back?”

  “That’s never been a problem. Folks generally expect to have their stuff taken and tossed. We’re pretty explicit on that in our contract for non-payment.”

  “Selling space.”

  “Selling peace of mind,” she said, and I snapped the lock off with the tool and handed it back to her.

  I worked the latch open and pushed up the door. The unit was almost all front to back Rubbermaid totes. The big thirty gallon ones. Behind me, Tina whistled and pushed her glasses up with one finger.

  “I think this might be a two dumpster or a two-week job,” she said.

  Boy was she right. I pulled one of the totes down from the stack and opened it. I felt weird, pawing through somebody else's stuff, but I was curious.

  “This is my favorite part,” Tina told me. “Sometimes I find good stuff to sell on the garage sale pages or eBay.”

  “You sell this stuff?” I asked her, pulling out a frilly set of lingerie and held it up to my body.

  She laughed, and I put it down in the tote and started pulling more out. The next one was kitchen stuff, and I set that aside as pots and pans rattled. Then more clothing, hunting clothing for a man. I started pawing through the Mossy Oak camo and tried to beat back the memories of my dad and I heading out into the woods, his Remington ready to put venison on the table.

  “You want anything, just set it aside, otherwise, let’s put the stuff we don’t want in the dumpster loose. We can keep the totes if you need some. They’re good for storing stuff in the barn and will keep the rodents out.”

  We worked for a good hour, and I’d been expecting it to be weird and awkward. Al had me thinking that Tina had been trying to get with me, but she showed no signs of that. It was both disarming and a relief. I didn’t talk much, except when I saw something interesting, and a pile started building up on the left side for the keep stuff.

  “Jackpot,” Tina called.

  She’d worked her way to the back corner. She was small enough she’d been selectively looking at things and moving steadily back. Now I watched some of the stacks move as she made her way forward, holding a soft sided gun case. The brown faux leather had the shape of its contents.

  “Sorry, I gotta keep this one,” Tina said with a grin.

  “Hey, I’m not worried,” I told her, smiling back. “It’s your business. Besides, I don’t need any guns.”

  She gave me a quizzical look and laid the case out on a couple of totes I hadn’t gone through yet and unzipped it. She whistled, and I looked it over when she handed it to me.

  “7mm Mauser,” I told her, turning it over. “I’ve got one just like this. It was my dad’s.”

  I gave it back to her, and she worked the bolt on the Spanish gun. When she saw it was clear, she left the gun where it was and waded in toward the back. I closed up the case and leaned the gun against the keep pile. I started pulling stacks of totes back, making the aisleway bigger for Tina. She was cursing, and I had to laugh a bit.

  “We’re going to Al’s dad’s house,” I told Tina as I fired up the van.

  “That’s okay. Senior is a cool guy, he won’t mind me there,” she said, buckling in.

  “Oh. I didn’t know you knew him.”

  “Oh yeah. He was my third-grade teacher, way back when.”

  I drove out of the mini-storage lot. A wet nose pushed against my right elbow, and I lifted up my arm to find that Opus had nosed his way into checking out what I was doing.

  “Don’t let him crawl into your lap,” Tina warned me.

  “He wouldn’t fit.”

  “He almost pushes me out the window when he sits with me. I should have left him back there to watch the place. That guy showing up a few days ago. That was…”

  “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that either,” I told her.

  “It was kind of funny when you jumped over the counter after Opus. You went all Superman punch, right to his face.”

  I was quiet. It was a moment I was proud of. I’d faced an armed man, punched him a couple of times, and did it all in front of a witness to my own personal badassery. Surely things like that only happened in my books, but when it had happened in real life, I’d been kinda inspired to write it in a story, too.

  “That was pretty funny,” I admitted.

  “I don’t know who was more surprised - the man, me, or Opus.”

  Was she picking on me? I looked over, and she was grinning.

  “Why, cuz I’m a nerdy, quiet writer guy?” I asked her.

  “I just remember Al always saying you were quiet. Always working. I thought you were OCD or something and couldn’t be around people.”

  “It’s not that I can’t be around people, I just don’t like to be sometimes. I don’t like dealing with their…”

  I let my voice trail off as I tried to voice the words I’d never really stopped to consider.

  “Bullshit?” Tina asked.

  “In a way. I don’t like dealing with people’s… prejudices, attitudes, and lack of respect. I mean, some people I like, but it’s easier to just not—”

  “Deal with them.”

  “Exactly.”

  “That sounds kind of lonely,” Tina said.

  Opus chuffed.

  “It is, but I don’t get close to people. I never really have.”

  “You must have at some point. Friends from school, family?”

  “No living family, no friends from school I talk to.”

  Opus let out a low moaning sound.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Tina said.

  Her smile was gone, and I hated to be a downer.

  “It happened a long time ago. Don’t worry about it. Besides, I’ve got Al to pal around with if I ever feel like it.”

  “What do you do besides write then, if you
don’t go hang out and… stuff?”

  I told her about my trips out into the woods. I didn’t hunt any more, but that didn’t erase a childhood of learning it and noticing game trails, tracks, and animal movement. I did love to fish, and I told her about remote places that I’d gone to, gear I’d used. She sat there listening and nodding.

  “Mechanically inclined?” she asked me.

  “I could be. I know how to do some stuff, but never really had to. I’m decent with electrical work on cars, it’s how I got my van so cheap. Being a writer, sometimes I’ve had to figure stuff out on my own in the lean months.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Why?” I was asking her.

  “I don’t know, pass the time while we drive.”

  “You know, Al said…” I stopped; it’d sound stupid.

  “Al had weird ideas about what I thought of you. I’m glad you saw past that. I always saw you as somebody who needed an extra friend. I’m sorry if me asking you about laser tag made you uncomfortable.”

  I laughed, and she turned red, blushing.

  I stuttered. “No, I didn’t mean it like that, I just… Al thought you were trying to… God, this is embarrassing to talk about now, but it’s funny… but he thought you were trying to ask me out. The whole, get to know him to get to me.”

  Tina busted up laughing, and I felt Opus put his head under my right arm again and push. I reached back and pet him, and could hear his tail thumping despite the car noise.

  “No wonder you both were weird after that, I’m sorry. I’m such a dork sometimes I forget that I come across too strong.”

  “It wasn’t that, I just didn’t know what to think,” I admitted. “But let’s just blame it all on Al. Easier that way.”

  We were still cracking up as I pulled into Al’s dad’s house. I pulled out another set of keys from my pocket and handed them to Tina.

  She took them. “Cool, give me a second to walk around and make sure everything’s buttoned down and locked up and ready to roll, and then I’ll follow you back to the mini-storage.”

  I was surprised that when she got out, that Opus got in the passenger seat and sat up straight.

  “Come on, boy,” Tina said in the kid voice to him.