Chapter 2
“Time for breakfast,” I yell to the husband.
He’s in his basement studio. It’s the place where he finishes off his custom spurs and knives. When he first started the business, it was just to supplement his retirement income. It’s really taken off due to current world conditions, so much so that now he makes other kinds of weapons in sizes for all sizes for people. Even children (don’t judge till you hear the whole story).
I slip two fried eggs onto the Husband’s favorite plate along with bacon and toast. I set it and a cup of coffee on the table.
A pair of arms circle my waist and I feel a sliver of a kiss on my neck. I turn and slip my arms around the Husband’s neck.
“How can someone with size 14 feet be silent when he walks?”
“Practice,” he replies. “Thanks for breakfast.”
As I drink my fourth cup of coffee the husband lets me know of the community meeting happening today.
“We’re implementing guard perimeters next month.”
“Who are you recruiting for guard duty?” I ask.
“That’s what we have to talk about, along with how many we will need for our side of the county,” he explains. “How about you?”
I raise my eyebrows. “You’d let me do that?”
“You’re a great shot, but I can’t see you staying up all night,” he says. “The last time you stayed up till 10 was when you were worried about the grandbaby being sick. He’s 13 now.”
Yeah, I’m not a night owl at all. I get up early and go to bed early. Even when I was a kid, I always was in bed by 9. These days it’s usually 8:30. That’s how I like it. I have my large glass of red wine, watch a show with the Husband. Kiss him goodnight and when my head hits the pillow, I’m out till its time for my first nightly pee.
“Ed and I will check the border fence on the south side before the meeting,” he says. He slips on his gun belt and slides a knife in each of his boots. I hand him his hat and work gloves as he heads out the door.
Ed is his horse. A dark bay gelding. He’s about 15. A good age for a horse. The husband rarely drives except on Sundays because gas and diesel prices are in double digits now. Most people around here have taken to riding horse to get around. We’re thankful for video calls or we would never see family. Only the wealthiest can afford to travel anymore.
“Ahhhhhh!” comes from the far bedroom.
That’s our son Robin. He’s 32 years old. Can’t talk. Can’t walk. Our constant companion. About ten years ago when the world started changing rapidly some thought he should be in a full-care facility. We said no.
Everyone’s glad we said no now. Because although he doesn’t talk somehow God’s peace permeates his body and people who aren’t yet believers (and those who are but maybe struggling) make appointments to sit with Robin. They say they hear from God when they are beside him. We can’t explain it. And we don’t need to.
“Your breakfast is coming!”
I feed him his morning oatmeal with apples and raisins. Give him his meds. Get him dressed and in his chair for the day. He has two appointments on the books, one with a woman from Eagle Butte and another with Loony Larry.
I push him over to the south side of the house. The husband put in a floor-to- ceiling glass wall for me and Robin a few years ago. He used car windshields and wine bottles, used windows – anything that sunshine can get through. Sounds a mess but it’s gorgeous. Robin and I love the sun but must be careful how much we get. Ten years ago, we could sit in the sun for a few hours. Now if we are outside both of us get itchy rashes in under 30 minutes. We can sit the shade but it’s still early spring yet and the leaves are just buds.
We aren’t the only ones who have issues with the sun now. Everyone does. Doesn’t matter how pale or dark a person’s skin is the sun burns. I hear companies are trying to make a sun shield lotion that does more than the old-fashioned sunscreens. Ten years ago, 50 SPF was adequate for most people. No longer. That is almost useless. When it’s time to plant the garden, planting and watering takes place before the sun comes up or after it goes down. My cowboy husband (like everyone outside during the day) covers up every last piece of skin they can. Gloves, bandanas, long-sleeves, jeans, sunglasses. There’s a new linen bamboo blend of fabric that is divine – wasn’t even around 10 years ago. I use it to make most of our clothes.
What? You think I’m off topic. You think this sun information has nothing to do with the story.
You’re wrong.
It has everything to do with the story. It’s all connected.
You want to hear about the animals?
Yes, I have more animal stories. Lots more animal stories. We’ve got time. The Husband won’t be back for hours. There’s lots to do out there for our neighbors and friends. We Americans (we call ourselves Americans still even though technically we probably aren’t) had to give up our isolating independence from each other. We depend on each other to stay alive.
Let me get you a cup of coffee (I know I drink too much coffee, but God lets me, and He’s the one I answer to) and I’ll get back to the beginnings of this present-day world.