Chapter 15

Damn this is a ton of land, I thought as I was driving around on my ATV as I used my GPS to find the second survey marker supposedly somewhere at the back corner of my property.

Not that I was going to complain, but what the hell was I going to do with all of this land now? It was way more than I would even need. Definitely more than I could ever keep maintained. I did not have any clue about farming, I was too far out for a Walmart and there was not a big enough group of people looking this far out of Athens for building out a neighborhood. I will actually get to wear out the ATV though. While not quite a mile in every direction now, it sure seemed like it when looking for a half-high tomato stake with an orange flag on it out in the middle of overgrown fields.

I wonder what it would cost me to get someone out to cut and bale all of this grass. I bet I can get a herd of Mexicans to come rake up all of the pine straw if I let them have it in exchange.

I finally found the second and third pegs. I was on my way to the last one when I came across some buildings. The survey showed them as a general outlines, but without any specifics. As they were easily a hundred yards inside of the barbed wire fence marking that side of the properly, I assumed they were mine with the sale.

No one told me I got any buildings. They don't even look like they are going to fall down like most of the ones covering various failed farms around here.

The biggest one looked like a barn. I could see the paint on it was faded, but not yet peeling. The tin roof showed some rusty nails, but the rest was still shiny. I got a big shock when I opened up the barn doors. Inside was the biggest damn green tractor I have seen up close. I did not know much about tractors, but this looked almost brand new to me. Off to the side there were all sorts of enormous things that looked to connect to the tractor somehow. Outside the back of the barn I found a monstrous fuel tank. It showed that it was nearly full!

I called the boss to ask him about it, but got transferred to someone I had not met from Legal.

"Surprise Joe," the unfamiliar voice said over the phone. "All of the buildings and equipment were part of the deal. The previous owners ran some form of service that connected bulk producers of auto parts to the factories in Detroit. Pretty slick setup too. The factory paid a percent of the signed contract value as a finder's fee. The producers also paid a percentage of revenue from sales to the vendor even after the original contract expired. They felt it was time to try something new, before their days were at an end, and sold their customer lists off to similar brokers in the area. Cash flush, they moved down here to try their hands at farming. If I am to believe them, they bought all that equipment based on what the salesman at the John Deere store said was needed to farm in Georgia. From what I saw they got all of the gear needed to farm anything that could ever possibly grow here, not just a few selected crops. Even with the top of the line gear, it was too much for them to do by themselves. Your neighbor's kids made a deal with them to bale the hay, store it and sell it for them. The kids used their own equipment. None of the equipment you find there has been fired up other than to park it and biannual preventative maintenance."

Damn that is a huge waste of good equipment to be just sitting around like that. What the hell am I going to do with it?

"I don't know what all they left in the house, out buildings or root cellar when they vacated. We had all of the buildings inspected for safety and tore down a few dilapidated buildings at the back edge of the properly. You won't even know where they were. Have fun Farmer Joe."

Ok then! Of all the things I wanted to be as a kid, I never wanted to be a farmer. Though that tractor does look like it might be fun to run around the farm and drive on the road to piss people off.

I headed back into the barn to try to make sense of the various tractor attachments. The only one I could even guess at looked like some sort of plow. I closed up the barn to go check out the other small buildings. In one I found out that I was going to not wear the ATV out after all. I needed to get the boss to hire the salesman over at John Deere. Inside a small shed was a John Deere Gator with the sports package, driving lights, winch, and stereo. In back they had the optional windshield, back panel and roof. It blew the hell out of the anorexic ATV I drove over. Better yet, it fired right up.

Into the back of the barn the ATV went.

I gave the Gator a good run to see how it handled. I completely forgot about still needing to check out the house until it was almost dark. Once I got back over to that side of the property I noticed a light was on in the house. Hell I did not even have the keys to get in to check it.

Might as well try to the door. People say they don't ever lock them around here. Yep, opened right up!

Inside I found the keys right there on the counter in the small kitchen with a note saying the family across the street, the one with the girl having a reputation as being a wild child, had the rest of the keys for the house and tractor. They could show me how to setup the tractor if I was ever going to use it.

Whatever.

As I looked through the cabinets, pantry and kitchen. I would have expected them to have taken some of this stuff. I found a bottle of white wine was in the fridge with a bow. It was joined by the requisite unexpired condiments. Outside I found a large chest freezer on the screened porch at the back of the kitchen. Inside must be the meat they had not used from a couple of cows and who knows how many pigs. All of it had been stamped from last month.

I could cook a feast for a week and still have plenty of stuff stocked up here. This is crazy.

I continued to wander around as I looked for the stairs to go up to turn off the light I had seen on earlier. Downstairs there were two small bedrooms. Other than where there may have been nightstands in one room, nothing else looked like they had taken it with them, not even the quilts, sheets or pillows on the beds. Just down the hall was a bathroom with one of the huge claw foot tubs right in the middle. A toilet was in one corner and sink in the other. In the parlor I could see where pictures had been removed along with an oval rug. All the furniture they left looked as new as the tractor.

Why would they leave all this stuff here? It had to be at least fifteen grand worth!

I don't know if they had a TV or not, but there was a place where the cable came into the house. It had the tell-tale coating of dust that did not look to have been disturbed for at least a few years. Their big fireplace even had a full set of well cared for fireplace tools set that looked well used.

Guess they did not need those if they were moving to Florida.

Still not able to find the stairs, I went back through the house opening random doors until I found a door in the back of the kitchen. It had stairs that went to the basement and upstairs. I went on another extended tour as I started looking around to find the room where the light had been left on. I was sure I heard something, but could not tell where it was. Finally around the corner I got my answer.

I thought it was a closet at first. Turns out, it was a master suite someone had added on a long time ago. From outside I would not have expected it to be this big. Of course, that was not why the light was on or the odd sounds I could not place.

Shit! Someone is in this room!

I could feel my heart racing as I backed out a bit to get clear of any shotgun pellets that may be directed toward me. I was crouching down in the hall when I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. When I turned to look I saw someone rushing out from another door right beside the stairs. Whoever it was looked to be trying to steal one of the quilts from the master bedroom. If this one was as ornate and antic looking as the others I saw downstairs.

I damn sure was not letting them get out of here with it.

"Drop the quilt and get the hell out of here," I yelled at the person that was already to the front door when I got down into the kitchen.

No dice. Off they went! At least they kept it off the ground.

I am no athlete and definitely don't have anywhere near the energy of whoever was stealing the quilt they had grabbed out of the master bedroom. I barely caught a glimpse of them ducking into the big barn where the tractor was stored. I realized the folly of my giving chase when I got into the barn. Whoever this was knew this barn better than I did. Other than the barn door creaking, there were no sounds in here at all.

Ok sure I am breathing like a man having just dodged free of a buffalo stampede in a narrow canyon!

I managed to get into the center of the barn to look around to see if they were even still in here anymore.

Well I think I managed to get turned around just enough to see the quilt dropping toward me before I was knocked to the ground.

Fuck! Why is my head hurting like a motherfucker? What the hell is that smell and damned beeping noise? Why can't I reach the damn alarm clock?

All of that would have to wait since I needed to take a monster piss.

I tried to get up only to find I was strapped down to a bed.

No, no, no! I am not back in that FBI holding room again! I can't be, can I? Was the last few weeks another crazy drug induced fantasy? Did Gordo have someone else that had me drugged up somewhere to endure years of mind fucking? Has this all been some sort of sick form of revenge through hypnosis, subliminal suggestion, or some other way of messing with my head?

There was something over my eyes, so I did the only thing I had available, I screamed out.

"Someone untie me and let me the hell out of this crazy place," I yelled out as loud as my dry throat would let me. "You can't keep me here! I have not broken any laws! I want my lawyer. This is a travesty! I am an American Citizen. You can't treat me like this!"

I was about to scream out again when I heard someone come in and give me something cold in my arm that took me from consciousness again.

Did I already yell out to be let go? Was I dreaming that I had?

I knew I was waking up and that I still needed to take a piss. As I tried to sit up I found that I was not restrained. My head hurt like hell, but I was sitting up now. Had I just dreamed that I was restrained? I can't put my finger on it. Something is just not right.

"Whoa there Mr. Johnson, you aren't going anywhere right now. Just you lay back and relax. I don't want to have to sedate you again," a woman, with a very kind, yet firm, voice told me.

There was no questioning that tone of voice.

She told me to just lay still, she needed to go get someone.

I was being gently shaken awake as I heard, "Mr. Johnson, can you hear me?"

"Yes," I said softly. "Are you the one in charge? Why am I being held here against my will? Who are you and why are you doing this to me? What did I do to deserve this?"

In a very officious tone of a seasoned asshole, the man said, "I am the on-call physician, so at this time I am in charge of you. According to your chart you were admitted Friday evening for epidural hematoma and suspected concussion as a result of multiple blows to your head while attempting to rape a teenaged girl. It is not my place to determine if you were fortunate or not to have had some form of padding over your head that protected your skull from more severe head trauma."

What the fuck? Rape? Teenager? Blow to the head.

I was poked, prodded and interrogated. No one would answer any of my questions and when I finally told them I was not going to say another thing without getting some answers, I was sedated again. I was restrained, again, when I woke up.

"Let me up! You can't keep me restrained like this! I want my lawyer," I yelled out, much louder than the last time.

There was some shuffling around and I felt that familiar feeling of pressure in my vein as something cold was being injected. I gave up and waited to drift back off to sleep. No such luck this time. I was weak as a baby, but wide awake.

Oh I bet this is going to be fun. I feel like my whole body is too stoned to move except for my mouth.

"If you want to live Mr. Johnson, I suggest you reframe from your violent attempts to get out of your bed. We had to drill a hole in your skull to relieve the pressure and every time we have removed the restraints, you have done something to cause additional swelling inside your skull. Fortunately there does not appear to be any brain damage on any scans. To properly evaluate for any signs of damage we cannot detect on scans, we must have you awake and alert," a much nicer doctor told me. "We have given you something to induce partial paralysis in your voluntary muscles. You will be able to assess mental acuity, visual and auditory functions while we give your head a few more days to heal. Then we will check if your motor skills were impaired. This is a very serious injury and your lawyers have made it abundantly clear that your care is of our utmost concern if we wish to avoid malpractice lawsuits."

That said, he left. What I guess was a nurse came in and put a straw in my mouth. I expected ice water. Instead I got some form of lukewarm broth. She told me that this was all I was getting for a few days, but I could have as much as I wanted. Evidently I had gotten multiple enemas, which she said was not normal protocol, to ensure I did not have any reason to attempt to strain when the need arose. Even I knew that was not going to be something I did until after I got off broth and Jell-O.

Damn that was underhanded!

Sure I could have as much broth as I wanted, I just had to get tested between each serving. I got just enough to remind my stomach that it was really designed to give me sustenance, not the IV in my arm. As soon as I finished a serving, in someone came to do some sort of test. My stomach would start letting me know it was done doing its' job and wanted more before long. Everyone knew the score. They used it to make sure I did not play around with them.

At some point I must have crashed. I was awakened by what felt like a face pushed into my shoulder.

"Please don't be all dead or broken in your head Mr. Johnson. Oh please don't," I heard a girl's voice saying.

A few minutes later I heard a woman say, "Sally Mae. They said he was awake today and did lots of them tests to see if he were thinking and hearing all ok. You know they told you it might be a while before he is awake when we come over. Maybe next time we come back he will be awake."

The girl would not let go of my arm no matter how much her mom told her it was time to go and she had a mom with voice that did not permit disobedience.