Chapter 13

The next day we went to the store, and shortly after we got there, everybody else started to show up. Jacki, Frannie, and Lisa all arrived together and we all had a big hug and moved into the back. And Jacki said it was all she could do to not tear herself away from Fred and Frannie and give Linda a beating. Frannie agreed, but knew that would not be a good thing for any of us, even though she wanted to also.

Even Lisa was shocked, and she said that she was shocked at seeing how she had changed. Especially her “new body”, which she said looked ridiculous. “Pete, I thought you were joking earlier, but now I can see you were right. They do resemble a football cut in half.”

We all laughed, and Becky even grinned as she told about her standing outside as we left, and peeling out as she drove away. “I was tempted for just a moment to hit her with the car, but I know Pete just wanted to go home and put all of this behind him. And I repeated that I was going to get a restraining order on her.

At just before lunch, they gave both of us hugs and kisses, and headed on back to their bases. And realizing I did not feel like working today, we went ahead and locked up and headed home.

Well, the order was rather anti-climactic. Thankfully, Gloria’s team had captured her several times on camera and video, both coming and leaving. Then the exchange inside the wrap party. The lawyer asked for a brief conference inside the chambers, which the judge granted.

In there we presented him with other evidence which my lawyer said he wanted to be kept confidential for my personal privacy. Including that Miss Linda Carol was also known as the pornographic actress “Holly Wood”, that we had an almost four year relationship prior to that. And that the year before she had used that former relationship under false pretenses by still claiming to be my fiancee to gain access to me in the hospital in Arizona while I was in a coma.

And not only that but shortly afterward she been arrested for the purchase and possession of crack cocaine. The last did shock me, I had only learned that the day before. And that early in that year Miss Carol had a roommate and girlfriend she lived in an apartment with, and the roommate had died under somewhat suspicious circumstances when he was struck and killed by a car on Santa Monica Boulevard. And in the final bits, her connection to a shady escort business and working with a gentleman known as “Rocco”, who had known underworld connections.

The judge examined everything, including two videotapes that starred Linda and listed Rocco as “producer and director”. He went over the evidence again, and signed the order.

“You know this can not be kept secret, right?” He told us after signing.

“Yes your Honor, but we hope to keep most of this out of the public eye. Almost nobody knows who Linda Carol is, if this was known that Holly Wood had such an order, there can be no doubt that some would start to contact Mr. Culver. Our hope is that this is simply one of many like it lost in the system, and nobody connecting the two.”

We left, and then the lawyer surprised me. He asked me if I owned a gun. I shook my head, saying I had owned a .22 rifle growing up, but I had given it to my childhood friend when I left Idaho. He pulled out a business card and told me to go there.

Becky clutched my arm and nodded. I looked at her questioningly. “Baby, I thought you hated guns.”

“I do Pete, but then again if you had asked me two years ago I would have said I hated the military also. But please, I agree. Get a gun, the more I learn of her the more scared I get.”

I was on my way home from my final therapy session at Long Beach, and decided to stop at the address. It was inside an industrial park in Reseda, and as soon as I went inside I could hear the gunfire. The guy at the front was friendly, and I said I was wanting a gun for self-defense. He gave me a serious look and asked if I had ever used a gun before. I just laughed and pulled out my Military ID Card, and said I grew up shooting, mostly rifles but the occasional pistol.

He looked it over, then nodded and handed it back. Then he started asking me questions about what I was wanting and why. I informed him it was a possible single threat, a restraining order was being issued, but we were worried about the mental health of the individual in question.

No, I did not want any kind of AR or AK. When I said I wanted self-defense and not to start a war he laughed. Not a shotgun either, same thing. I wanted a deterrent and if required a way to stop somebody, not blow holes through them.

Finally, he took me towards the end and showed me several pistols. In the end, I walked out with two of them. A Colt .45 for me, a .380 “single stack” Makarov clone for Becky. I got that for her because it had all the bullets one over the other, instead of side by side. That made the grip smaller, and he agreed, saying a lot of women preferred that model or models like it. I also got ammunition for them and a small safe.

I went home and loaded the magazines and put them and the rest into the safe, and tucked it under the bed on Becky’s side. I slept on the side right across from the doorway to the hall. If need be, I could grab her and roll us onto the floor out of the line of fire from the hall, then pull the gun out.

I was about to return to the store, and the mailman arrived. He handed me a Registered Mail letter, and I knew what it was. My final orders, stating I was on 34 days terminal leave. My DD-214, and severance check to be mailed to this address afterwards.

Well, that’s that. I drove to the shop after loading a dozen systems into the back of my car. Once they were unloaded I looked around and saw that that giant HP table thing was gone. It had become such a common sight in the front I rarely noticed it anymore. “Dee, you sold the desk?”

“Yep, some guy said he was driving by saw it and he had to get it. Seems he works for an engineering company up in Lancaster, and they used one about a decade or so ago. They recently got a proposal to update some of their old systems for a new Air Force contract. And then they realized that all of their archives were on disk for it and they had gotten rid of theirs years ago. They called here right after I opened, and were here an hour later and they loaded it into a van.”

I gave her a hug, and said “Nice!”. That was over two grand in the pocket. I had checked around and nobody at the time seemed interested in a 1970’s era minicomputer. So I had just slapped $2,500 on it, but I had managed to put in some formulas so it would run a series of moving shapes and lines. So it made a great display piece. “Yep, they not only did not balk at the price, they asked if we had anything else to go with it.”

I got their card and gave them a call. I said the only other thing I had was a large washing machine sized hard drive unit that had a capacity of 10 megabytes, with four disk packs. He asked how much, and I simply said “$2,000”. He said they would be there in the evening.

They got there and there were six guys in a four door pickup. They followed me to dad’s house where we rolled it out of the garage and they managed to lift it up into the back. I handed them the other three drives as I had decided to keep one, and he handed me a check. Very nice, $4,500 in my pocket, for something I thought was just old junk.

I put it in the bank then went back to the shop. Dee was happy and showed me her rough article on our latest presentation. I then got a call from Fred. He had talked to the kid he had seen with Linda and told me it was something that had been arranged through another party. The buses actually pulled up a few blocks away from the theater, and somebody had arranged “escorts” for about 200 of the single guys. I growled, but Fred quickly jumped in saying it was a legitimate escort arrangement, they just walked in and stayed with the guys, so it would look like more people, and that the guys walking in with pretty girls would look good.

“Pete, I asked quite a few and they all told me the same thing. There were a bunch of girls that looked like models in the parking lot, and after mingling all the girls paired up with a guy. They walked in with them, sat with them for the show, then walked back to the buses. No sex, no hanky-panky, just being with them. If I have to guess, your ex was just one of them. None know who hired them though, they arrived and the girls were just there.”

I thanked him and passed that off to the attorney. I then called Brad and asked him what he knew. He told me he had suspected something like that, but he certainly had not arranged it. “If I have to guess, one of the actors who had been at the first show, maybe. Probably an old vet himself, and thought that would look better for the single guys to have a girl on their arm.”

When Becky got home after work she was happy for the sale, but said she would not touch the guns, or take shooting lessons. “Pete, you can do so, please. But don’t ask me to do it.” However, she told me she got confirmation of her two weeks vacation, at the start of October.

We went home and I showed her where the guns were, and how to open the safe. She still said she would not touch them, but admitted she probably should know how to get them. The next day she did not have to work, so we got in her car and drove to see my favorite Korean car dealer.

Well, he greeted us by name and took us to the back. “We just got this in last month, we have not touched it yet. It’s a 15’ box truck. 1980, 150,000 miles. Engine is solid, the transmission is not so good. We have been using it for storage, but I can have my mechanic get it fixed in about two weeks.”

Well, it was a bit bigger than I was expecting, but the price was good. It had a gas engine, and a loading ramp in the back. We agreed on a price, and he said to bring the money once he told us it was fixed. We told Mandy when she came by a few days later, and she looked exhausted. She was doing her initial internship, and told us she was going to have to drop game nights for the foreseeable future. We hugged her and said we would miss her, but she had to do what was best for herself.

But at least the convention went off perfectly. I had rented a trailer and we loaded it up with all the adventures, and we sold 80% of them. The presentation of the Fyta quest went off without a hitch, and The Geek Crusaders got a standing ovation. I even laughed the next day as I heard somebody in the game room call out “Fyta me? No, fyta you!” I just hoped as I passed a guy that was wearing a red jumpsuit with what looked like a turtle glued to his forehead that nobody would show up dressed as a fyta in the future.

Thankfully the truck was a go, and it spent another week in the paint shop, having all the body dents and dings repaired, and a fresh coat of paint so it no longer looked like a pumpkin. It was now red, with gold letters displaying “Computer Outlet” prominently displayed. As well as a small Eagle Globe, and Anchor (EGA) towards the bottom, and the words “Proud Veteran Owned and Operated”. And for an additional $100 a month we were allowed to park it in the front of the parking lot so it could catch the attention of those who drove by.

And of course, it got tagged three days later. I went outside and looked at it and sighed. But thankfully Cliff knew a guy in his VFW chapter that worked with what was called the “Sparkle Program”. Essentially it was taggers who got caught, and did their community service going around and removing the graffiti of others as part of their punishment. And even most of them were offended, saying that taggers should never cover art by others, and the truck to them qualified.

The next day I picked up the tow dolly and we loaded the Scout with the luggage and everything else we would need, and realized I was going to miss it. My dad came over and helped me hook my car up to the back as Dee and Becky talked. Becky was saying she was excited to see where I grew up, but not looking forward to staying in the RV for a week and a half. Dad winked at me, I still had not told her about my house.

We hit the road at 5 the next morning, and we stopped at Palmdale to grab a fast breakfast and continued on. Becky loved much of the sights on the way, but going up the pass was a bit of a struggle. We stopped for the night in Winnemucca, and when we finally pulled into the ranch just after noon we both stared. A large sign had been erected over the entrance, with “Rancho del Manana” displayed on it. And an EGA on each side.

And the house looked just as I had pictured it. I pulled in front of it, and we got out to the hugs of everybody. Lots of hugs and kisses, and Becky smiled as she held my niece. Finally, I got to hold Grace, and Becky was looking over the area. The main house looked great now, and Dave said it was how it looked before it went to hell. Becky saw the barn, the covered RV pads nearby, and my dad’s house on the top of the hill. “But I don’t see the RV? Do you still need to pull it out?”

They all laughed, and Kim called me a bastard. “Becky, we are staying here. When the crew finished my dad’s house, they started in on this one. This is our vacation house for whenever we come up here.” She gave me a hug and kiss, and I handed Grace back to her mom as we got a tour. And they had done well. I had sent Dave some money, and he had provided some good furniture. Almost all used but in very good condition. And it was just as I had seen it in my mind. Wood floors, a nice living room set, and a wood stove. Becky loved the kitchen, and also the bedrooms. Dave said that was the only part of the furniture that was all new, he was not about to buy used beds.

The basement blew her away also, I do not think she had ever even seen one before. There was a TV room, with a large screen TV on one side and enough chairs and seating for eight people. And the washer and dryer were used but in very good condition.

I brought in the luggage as Dave and Jeff unhooked the Toyota. Dave looked the Scout over, and smiled as he said it brought back some fond memories. I handed him the title and he said that he would take it into town and get the title transferred over to the ranch. I was looking forward to that. That would save on money, as the insurance and registration was a fraction here compared to LA.

We all had dinner in the big house, and Becky loved it. Now that I was finally seeing it complete, it almost resembled a mix between a country estate and a hunting ranch. Several of Dave and Jeff’s hunting trophies hung on the wall, and Jeff asked me when I was going to join them.

“Sorry Jeff, never had the interest in hunting. Am not against it, I just never had the interest to kill anything other than maybe rabbits.”

“Yep, he and Kim were terrors on the local rodent population. Give them a box of 22, and they would spend half the day out there shooting bunnies.”

I laughed as did Kim and her mom, but Becky looked at me. “You two went out and shot rabbits?”

Kim reached out and rested her hand on the back of Becky’s. “Oh Becky, those we shoot are not really rabbits. Sure we call it the ‘Jackrabbit’, but it’s really a hare. Thin, scrawny, and they carry diseases. And can really tear up the crops in the area. We used to go out all the time shooting them, helps keep the population in check. In fact, there is not even a season for them, shoot as many as you want whenever you want. You can’t even eat them, the meat is not safe because of the diseases. Not that there is much on them to begin with. No, these are not ‘Peter Cottontail’, same as we shot rock-chucks. A marmot, looks kinda like a really large ground squirrel. Those are not pests in the same way, we hunt those out because their dens can collapse and break the leg of a horse or cow if they step in them.”

“Becky, you have three kinds of hunting really,” I added. “Dave and Jeff, they love to hunt for meat. Now I admit I love a good venison roast or jerky, but I have no interest in hunting for it myself. Then you have ‘varmint control’, that is what Kim and I did. Basically hunting the pests because they have no predators. At one time that did include wolves and coyotes, but we generally leave them alone unless they are trying to go after livestock or start hanging around close to the home. One thing the old settlers screwed up, they got rid of the predators which let the prey get out of control. Then finally you have the trophy hunters. Those I do not get at all, unless once again it is population control. Nobody eats cougars, so there is no reason to hunt those other than control.”

Dave nodded. “Me, I love deer. Now some ranchers will chase off deer on their land, even shoot them. Me, I figure there is enough for all, my cows and the deer alike. I even toss out feed for them at the edges of the property sometimes, especially towards the end of winter when food is scarce. I love watching them, but that does not mean come hunting season I will not take one down. And with few predators, we have to hunt some out or we get too many.”

Jeff nodded. “In fact, I worked summers for the Forestry Service when I was in college. Do you know one in four deer dies in the winter? In some northern areas it is almost half. Starvation mostly, not enough food to go around. A few decades ago some idiots back east decided to ban hunting in an area, and they lost 80% of their herd. Took a decade for it to recover. No, we got rid of the wolf, cut down the number of cougars and other predators, now we have to take their place or they will literally breed themselves to death.”

I explained to them that Becky’s family owned a dairy farm, so she was not used to raising animals for slaughter. She nodded and said that although her grandfather did cull a few out a year for butchering, that was not how they made their money.

“Well, we are different,” Kim said. “Pete and I, in the spring we would play with the calves. Run in the pasture with them, ride them sometimes. We all had fun. Brush out their coats, then in the fall, we would eat them. Pete about cried when he had to sell his rabbits.”

I sighed, and told Becky about my time in 4-H. “Yea, I raised rabbits. Two generations. Then at the end sold them all off. Some went to others for breeding stock, the rest got made into dog food. However, I do like to fish. And I did promise to see Herb and go fishing with him while I was here.”

At that, they all got quiet. “Pete, Herb died about two months ago. He told me you did not know, but he had pancreatic cancer. That is why he was glad to sell out to you. He came here right after he moved back, and I do remember him. I was just a kid the last time I saw him. I think he went to school with your grandparents. We went fishing a few times, I would drive out towards the end and get him from the veterans home and take him to the park where we would drop in our lines. But he told me he was happy you came in, and he was glad he sold out to you. But he was especially glad, because he got to spend his last months up here, where he considered home.”

We all hugged each other, as I really had been looking forward to fishing with him. After dinner, Becky and I headed back to my house and she spent some time digging in the closet and cabinets. “I can’t believe you never told me about this!”

“Well, I actually told my dad to do it the day he showed us the plans for his house. I had the money, and I figured they might as well get started on it once his was done. We will go up and see their place tomorrow, Dave showed me where the keys are. And I can show you around the ranch and the area. Like dad’s, this is a long-term investment. I have a place to go for vacations, and a place I can retire to. Or just in case everything ever goes to hell.”

She looked at me sharply, and I nodded. “Well, I am Pentecostal,” she said. “We talk a lot about the end times a lot.”

“Yea, the Mormons are a bit like that to a degree. Seven years of food and supplies saved up for the Rapture. Me, I still worry about the Soviets, although things are not as bad as when I joined the Marines. But we still got that mess in Afghanistan, and Libya, and some standoffs in that region. If shit was to go downhill, my plan is to hightail it up here as fast as I can. I do not like hunting, but I can do it if it means that or starving. We can grow crops here, fish, hunt, and at least survive if WWIII was ever to happen. I will ask Dave if I can borrow his Hank Jr. tapes. When I was in school, Hank Williams Jr. did a song called ‘A Country Boy Can Survive’ that kind of talked about it. Basically, how city folk often look down on us. But push comes to shove, we can survive. Meanwhile, they are dependent on the city to live.”

Becky nodded. “I remember it, gramps loves country music. It’s funny, until now I guess I just never realized that you really are a country boy.”

I just laughed. “Oh yeah. If I was living here, expect me to be up at sunrise, getting on a dirt bike or 4-wheeler, and roving the fence-line. Then probably helping muck the stalls and feed the stock. I told you about my first Scout. I mucked stalls and bailed hay to pay for that. And other things, like help run and repair fences, even did some tilling, although I never ran a seed spreader other than for feed land. You can be sloppy when laying out a field for feed, can’t do that when it’s for food.”

Becky curled up against me and nodded. “Here, I can see it now. It’s funny, it was like I was picturing some grand hacienda when I thought of it here and you guys acting like the Dons. Like in a movie, but you all actually do the work yourselves.”

“Oh, Dave has a few hands. But the need for bunkhouses is long gone. Now cowboys tend to live in trailers and pickup campers. Hence, the pads we put in place. Dave said that has been a help, he can pick and choose the best hands, and they will come because they know he has one of the best and most exclusive campgrounds in the area.”

“You have, but I get what you mean. He is your, foreman?”

“Pretty much. But it goes way back to the agreement between his father and my grandfather. He does most of the work, and gets the use of most of the land in exchange. And we both benefit. We get meat and the place is taken care of, he gets prime grazing area for just the sweat he puts into it. And Kim, how much would a house like that cost her to rent in LA?”

“Oh shit, 5 grand a month, maybe?”

I smiled. “I think they are paying us around $300 a month. In LA, houses are expensive because the land is expensive. This house here on a typical LA plot would be what, $75,000? This cost me under $30,000.”

“That’s less than half of what the place I am renting is worth!”

“Yep, you can buy an acre of land out here for a few thousand. The house is what costs money. In LA, it’s crazy because it is the reverse. The house can be cheap, the land is what costs you. My taxes per year on this house are less than you pay for a month in rent on yours. I actually agree with my dad and Herb. Eventually, I am going to get the hell out of LA and come back here. Hell, part of the reason I told my dad to build this is security. It will be a few years before I collect my pension, I have to pay back that severance check first. But when I do, I could literally live here on just my pension, and never work a day again as long as I live. And say something happens and I can’t work anymore. This is my plan. I’m sure as hell not going to live in LA on my disability.”

I went into the fridge and laughed as I pulled out two cans of Coors. I handed one to Becky, and she laughed. “Dave’s little welcome home gift, I bet. We will go into town tomorrow, and get you some wine coolers. But we call this ‘Rocky Mountain Kool-Aid’ up here. And yes, Dave and the rest are all Mormons, but they have no problem with others drinking. In fact, they had no real problem if Kim drank, so long as she was responsible. She stopped though, has not had a drink since she started to date Jeff in fact. But they all do drink coffee. Dave said John Smith was a damned fool and listening to the devil when he said they should not drink that.”

We chatted for a bit, then we went to bed where we spent over an hour making sure that the bed was comfortable, and well broken in before we fell into a sweaty slumber.

The next morning I got woken up by a rooster. A rooster! I laughed and sat up, sun in the window. I lightly slapped Becky’s rear and told her it was time to get up. I took my shower and made breakfast as she took hers, and she laughed when she saw me in jeans, a Western shirt, and boots. I just smiled, seeing her in her tight jeans and t-shirt. She laughed again when I pulled out my old “work hat”, and we headed on out. I showed her the barn, with the UAV now safely inside. The tractor and backhoe fit right in, along with the engine hoist, benches of tools, and other stuff littering it. We then looked at the RV pads, and she was surprised they were all covered.

“Well, we are at over four thousand feet here. We sometimes get over six feet of snow, and the sun in the summer can be brutal. This protects an RV against both. Helps them last longer, warmer in the winter, cooler in the summer.”

She nodded as we walked over to the corral. I greeted Trixie, and gave her some hay and patted her neck. “Trixie here is getting on in years. But to Kim, she is better than a puppy. I don’t even think she rides her much anymore, but she said she sometimes walks her up the hill to run in the pasture.”

We then went up the hill, and she marveled at the size of Dad’s house. “Yep, three bedrooms, basement, and a loft that can be converted to living, or used for storage.” We went inside, and it was rather sparse. Just the bare minimum of furniture, and rather cheap at that like mine. She looked at me, and I explained that this was just for vacations, when my dad and Dee moved here with Georgie they would bring their stuff up, and likely donate this. We then went to the back, and I showed her the upper feed barn, stock pond, and the pasture.

Becky smiled, seeing all the cows out there, several near the pond, one even standing in it. The barn full of feed, and I pointed to the cattle stable, basically a large wooden shed with a large awning in the front. “In bad weather or if it is cold, they will often gather over there. But this is a nice fall day, so they are enjoying being in the field. But see the tracks? Come nightfall they will all head over there for dinner. It’s fattening season, so they all are getting good grain and lots of it. Next month these are all going for auction.”

I pointed out to where the other fence to the east was, and Becky was surprised when I said I might be adding another hundred acres next year. “Mr. Simplot owns most of the land around here, but the Chambers Ranch is to the east. And we are in talks to buy the land between our ranches. It is hard we were told for them to work that small parcel, so we will likely get it. No problem for us and Dave can increase his herd. That way actually works best, our northern property line will run all the way to his spread, and eliminated this little panhandle in his own property so he has a solid southern border. That leaves our two families holding a little square of around 125 acres in a nice even rectangle, makes things simple.”

“And all that in the back once belonged to your family?”

“Yep, 640 acres once, a square mile, but more a square rectangle. Bits and pieces got sold off over the years, to pay for taxes, upgrades, once to pay for a new homestead when the first one burned down. By the time my parents got it, we were down to 25 acres. The bottom five were the homestead, the bench between here and there kept them separate. At the turn of the century, this was a real farm. Mostly potatoes, but also some corn, and other things for eating. A dozen head of cows for milking and meat, pigs, chickens, and the like. My house is actually sitting where the old bunkhouse was. And the big house is right where the house I grew up in used to be.”

“I thought I heard a rooster this morning! Does Kim have chickens?”

I shook my head. “I doubt it, Kim always hated them. We used to have some when I was little, but they scared her, always seemed to chase her so my mom killed them all. I still remember that summer, we were eating chicken almost every day. I got sick of chicken. I bet it’s a feral, there are a fair amount wandering around, belong to nobody. But if you want, we can catch some and raise chickens if you want.” Becky slapped my arm and laughed.

The tour finished we headed back down the hill, and after washing up a bit once Becky saw how dusty we had gotten we got into the car and headed into town. But I was taking a back route, and had made it barely two miles when I saw the flashing lights in my mirror. I pulled over and rolled down the window when Becky asked why we were being pulled over. I just told her to relax as the County Mountie walked up to the car.

He bent down and asked for my License and Registration. I already had them in hand, and said “Hiya Cutter, how goes it?” He jerked a bit, then looked at me. Then at my license, and laughed. “God damn, Speedy! How ya been? Not seen you in years!”

We shook hands, and he just handed my paperwork back. He asked what I was doing there, and I said I was up for a vacation. I introduced him to Becky, and he asked if I was staying at the Littlebuck place. “Nope, at Rancho del Manana. You know I bought it back, right?”