Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
We now have patches of fur in case of an emergency.
Cecil’s cabin was designed for one, but a man who should have passed years ago doesn’t take up much space. In the warmer months, I sleep on a hammock swinging off the front verandah. In the colder months, I wear a hole in the rug at the front of the fireplace I installed after shivering my way through my first three nights as Cecil’s unwanted house guest.
I stop recalling a time that seems so long ago when a rolled-up newspaper smacks me up the back of the head. Cecil learned about the hearing loss in my right ear rather soon into our unusual housing situation, but he doesn’t take kindly to me using it to my advantage.
He hates ignorance almost as much as he does the outside world. He hasn’t stepped foot off his land in over ten years, hence the reason I’ve never felt like a burden to him. I keep his cabin stacked with the things he can’t grow himself, and he keeps my mind away from the dark thoughts it constantly faced during my adolescence.
It’s an odd pairing, but it works for us.
My brows furrow when Cecil mouths, “Go inside,” instead of telling me. Even with my hair hanging past my ears, the annoying ring Isaac’s roundhouse kick caused my left ear is still present to this day. It’s frustrating, but I’m hoping the thicker my hair becomes, the less annoying it will be.
It will also be the perfect barrier for the whiny voices of the women who flock to my side during my bi-annual treks to town. Even with them not knowing my family’s notoriety, they hang off my every word like my face alone makes up for the horrific scars on my back.
Since I don’t agree with them, I thank them for their invitations before returning to the cabin Cecil inherited over a decade ago.
My father would make heads roll if he learns of my celibacy the past four years, so I won’t mention the fact I’ve never gone past third base with a woman before.
“Let me f-finish getting these tomato plants s-straightened, then I’ll stoke the fire s-so water will be r-ready for showering.”
Only a couple of weeks ago, the thick black poly hose mounted to the cabin’s roof supplied enough hot water for two showers and a bucket of water to do some laundry. But since it’s cooling down faster than usual this year, we’ve reverted to using the ancient boiler most households removed when electricity was invented.
“Inside now, punk ass.” Cecil’s words are fired out of his mouth so quick, I struggle to lip read what he says. “I won’t ask again.”
With my hearing not the best, it takes me shifting my eyes in the direction of the vibration under my feet to understand Cecil’s unease.
We have visitors.
Visitors.
Not once in the three-and-a-half years I’ve lived here have we had visitors. And from the sternness on Cecil’s face when he orders me into the cabin for the second time and his quickest glance of the gun that rarely leaves his side, it isn’t hard to determine these aren’t visitors we want.
“Goddammit, kid,” Cecil growls down my good ear when I stand at his side instead of cowering away as he’s hoping. “Sometimes you are more trouble than you’re worth.”
I scoff at his claim. I tried to take the cheater’s way out years ago. He taught me that wasn’t the right way to go, so I refuse to make the same mistake twice.
“Who’s this?” asks a man I’ve never seen before. Even with the locals being sporadic around these parts, I’m confident we’ve never met. You can’t mistake a face as ugly as his.
“None of your business,” Cecil replies before pulling me behind him like I can’t protect myself. I guess his logic makes sense. I did arrive on his doorstep with a broken wrist, multiple fractured ribs, several contusions, and one hell of a bruised face.
I was unrecognizable.
“None of my business?” the man replies with a mocking laugh. “That’s funny considering everything here is my business.” After dragging his eyes across the overflowing vegetable patch, a whistle blows through his chipped front teeth. “Wow. You have quite the setup, old man. I’m impressed.”
Although the stranger with a thick gold chain around his neck and an arrogant swagger appears to be praising Cecil, neither Cecil nor I take it that way. You can’t praise someone while destroying something that took them months to achieve.
While stomping across a bed of carrots almost ready for harvesting, the man with an ugly sneer gestures for two men in a blacked-out SUV to join us in the recently restored shade house. “But I still don’t understand what you’re doing here. This isn’t your land, so you have no right to farm it.”