Taken by the Major: Chapter 3
Light filtered through the dirty windows. Dust motes filled the air. It made me think of some overly dramatic or romanticized scene from a movie with light made visible in rays spreading into the room. It was neither dramatic nor romantic. It was cluttered and dirty.
I left an orderly, structured, and organized life for this? Retirement wasn’t exactly what Colonel Manning had described. I had no hot rod car to drive off into the sunset with. I had no soul to connect with. At least, none that I had found yet. What I did have were several properties scattered up and down the California coast and dotted in major cities across the States and an apartment in Paris.
I could only imagine they were all semi-neglected like this one was. Well, all accept the house in Chicago, the one I had lived in before getting shipped off to boarding school. The one Father had lived in until he had to be put into the hospital.
That property was the easy one to deal with. I paid someone to clear it out and auction it off. Everything inside it went away without my ever having set eyes on it. I didn’t need to visit for nostalgic reasons. I didn’t have good memories of the place.
But this one, a late-Victorian style home with a detached barn, had intrigued me. In the redwoods of Northern California, the location seemed perfect, far enough away from everything but close to mountains and a day’s drive, at most, to the coast.
It had taken less time to get my retirement pushed through than I had expected. Manning had coordinated our meeting to coincide with when I needed to either renew my contract or part ways.
Manning forwarded my case up the ladder, and someone called in a favor. Next thing I knew, I was out of a job. I did hit the beach at first, ignoring the estate. I took a page out of Gardner’s playbook, drank a bit too much and fraternized with the opposite sex.
That lasted almost two whole weeks. I was too bored sitting around on my ass, doing nothing. So, I picked a property at random, and now I stood in the middle of this semi-neglected house with a tape measure in one hand and a growing shopping list for the hardware store in the other.
The house had what designers called ‘good bones’. It was well-built and had belonged to my great-grandfather, and for a time, my grandfather before he moved the family back east. That’s where my father had been raised. Where I had been raised. But there was something about this house that spoke to me. Maybe that’s what Manning had said about finding my soul? I had roots here that I barely understood.
And this part of California. The trees were majestic, the sky crystal clear. And while it was cold enough for snow, it didn’t seem to be that same bone-deep cold that never went away that I had remembered as a kid in Chicago.
Well, if I were ever going to get anything done in this place, I was going to need a few supplies. I didn’t trust the ancient brooms and mops I had found to do much more than spread dirt and dust around. I needed an industrial shop vacuum, dust rags, brooms, garbage bags, all of it.
Flat Rock wasn’t a big town, but it was big enough to have the essentials. I drove into town and out the other side to where the big grocery store was located. I filled my shopping cart with brooms and paper towels and garbage bags, checking each item off my list after I added it to my collection. Since I was there, I grabbed some beer and the few things I would need to make sandwiches.
I stared at a jar of mayonnaise and contemplated my electrical situation. Was I willing to waste money on what would most likely be a single-use purchase? Did I trust the old refrigerator enough to risk food poisoning by using the mayonnaise again tomorrow after opening it today?
I took my pen and wrote New Fridge on the shopping list.
For anything that I couldn’t buy in town, including a new refrigerator, I could head down the road for an hour and find what I needed in Redding. Or I could just order something online and have it delivered. Of course, I needed to get an internet connection up at the house before I could do anything online.
I loaded the back of my truck up with my purchases. I still needed a shop vac. I looked at the bags in the truck bed and decided to head home and drop them off before getting back on the road to Redding.
I turned onto Main and headed north. In my peripheral vision, I saw a blur heading toward the street. I slammed on my breaks. The blur was a kid on a skateboard. I didn’t want to hit him, but I wasn’t so sure he wasn’t going to hit me. The idiot headed straight into the road. He hit the curb and fell out of sight.
I slammed the car into park and was out in a flash. The kid was on the ground. He looked like a pile of old men’s clothes that were too big.
“Why the hell are you skateboarding in the snow?” I yelled at the kid. I couldn’t believe how stupid he was being. He could have been killed. What if I hadn’t seen him?
“Because there’s snow? Maybe because I thought falling in the snow would be softer. Guess what? It’s not.” The kid sneered back at me.
“Fuck.” I saw it was a girl. “Sorry, I mean, crap, are you okay?”
“I’m on my ass, holding my arm. Do I look okay?”
I shouldn’t have laughed, but the words coming out of that small, near angelic face were just wrong. She glared at me. All I could think of was tempest in a teacup. She was small and full of rage. And probably a lot of pain.
“Let’s get you up.” I leaned toward her.
Her squeal was high-pitched and full of fear. “Don’t touch me, don’t touch me.”
I pulled my hands back and away. “Okay, okay. I won’t touch you unless you give me the word. But you need to get up before you get too cold. I don’t want you going into shock.”
She sat there hugging her arm. Her eyes darted about. “Will you grab my skateboard?”
“Sure thing, kid. What’s your name?”
“Ruby.”
I jogged across the street and back, sticker covered skateboard in hand. I tossed it into the back of the truck.
She had managed to shift so she was up on one knee and about to push up onto one leg. She started to go up but wobbled and started to fall forward.
“I got you.” I caught her around the waist and pulled her all the way to her feet.
“Hey, what happened to consent and not touching me?” She was not giving an inch. Good for her, she was a spitfire.
“Sorry, but you were about to go down, face first.”
“Yeah,” she said softly. Her voice suddenly became very small. “Thank you.”
“You want to call your mom?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t have a cell phone. She’s going to be pissed about this. You think you could give me a ride to Burger Jeff?”
“Burger Jeff?” I didn’t think those were still around. “You mean the hospital. You need X-rays and to have your arm set.”
“Kenzie works at the Burger Jeff. She’ll take me to the clinic. I don’t need my arm set.” Ruby tried to sound tough, but she winced with every other word.
“Try wriggling your fingers,” I told her.
She screamed. All the color in her face turned green, and she looked like she was going to pass out. Consent be damned. I scooped her up, opened the passenger door, and put her on the seat in my truck.
“Hey!” she started.
“Sit down before you fall down. I’m taking you to the hospital. You can use my phone to call your mom, or Kenzie.”
Poor kid didn’t even look like she had it in her to nod. She rested her head back and turned, pulling her legs inside. I closed the door and walked around to climb in on my side. I started the truck and put it into gear.
“Can you help me with the seatbelt? I can’t do it.” She didn’t sound good. All that anger and adrenaline were abandoning her. She sounded like a scared little girl now. As I leaned toward her, she flinched away. She was scared, and I wasn’t helping. I was probably grimacing and growling under my breath. I sat back into my space and tried to not look like I was barking orders at a bunch of soldiers.
“My name is Major Tate Bowers, U.S. Army, retired. I’m not going to hurt you. Let’s get you buckled up so I can get you to the hospital.”
She gave me the briefest of nods. I reached across her to grab the seatbelt. With some careful maneuvering so that the strap didn’t go over her injured arm, I got her buckled in.
“Army, huh? No wonder you’re so bossy.”
I chuckled. She was starting to feel a little better.
“When we get to the hospital, I’ll call your mom for you. I’ll explain everything.”
“Not my mom, Kenzie.” There was that name again.
“We should let your mom or your dad know. You can tell your friend later.”
“I don’t have a mom or a dad. I have Kenzie, my sister. She’s my legal guardian.” Ruby sounded tired. Probably the pain catching up to her combined with my dumb ass not knowing her situation.
“Sorry, yeah. When we get there, I’ll call Kenzie for you.”