and knees and discovered the edge of a tarp stretched tightly across an excavation. “What the hell?” she said. In a rush of fury and disgust she realized what it was. Crouching, she found the corner, untied the concealed anchor rope, and bent it back enough to reveal an SUV-sized excavation with a series of metal spikes mounted at the bottom.
***
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Hogan”
Excited barking cracked the silence. Loud, joyful barking, getting louder. Stella looked. A furred missile ran toward her tail wagging. Stella sat on her heels arms wide to receive 120 pounds of German shepherd. Steve knocked her over and furiously began licking her face. Stella laughed and laughed, half-heartedly warding the dog off with her arms.
“Well hello,” Otto said appearing minutes later. “What a surprise.”
Stella pulled the chunk of jerky from her pocket and gave it to the dog. She stood, blushing and brushing the hair out of her face. What do you say to an old lover whom you last saw in the psychiatric ward?
“Otto.”
Walking around the tank trap Otto went up to Stella and hugged her and Stella found herself hugging back, remembering the warmth of his hard body, that aftershave he wore. Even here in the wilderness. A little flame flared. She tamped it down.
Business, girl .
She stepped back a little breathless and looked at Otto. He had a military haircut and the tanned lean body to go with it. He wore a fishing vest over a white T-shirt, blue jeans and heavy leather boots. He wore an Aussie bushman’s hat with one brim pinned up and a pair of Foster Grant sunglasses. He looked like the host of some survival show.
“How long have you been here?” he said.
“Just got here.”
“Well come up to the house. I’ll show you around. Steve and I just got back. I haven’t even been in the house yet.”
“Where were you?”
“Just walkin’ around. We saw a pair of eagles wipe out an unkindness of ravens.”
“An ‘unkindness?’“
“That’s what you call a bunch of ravens.”
Steve running circles they walked toward the long low structure. The horizontal windows looked like they’d been taken from a lab. In a clearing at the far end was Otto’s Road Warrior Power wagon looming over the landscape on tractor-sized tires.
It was cooler inside the hogan-like structure. The hardwood floors were made of recycled bark beetle timber and bore that species’ unique pattern. Otto had finished them himself and put them in using tongue and groove. Navajo rugs covered the floor. The east-facing side had all the windows. A great room combined kitchen, dining, and living, two skylights shining on the painting over the mantle . Beyond that a hall led to the master bedroom, a full bath, and a spare bedroom. There was dog hair everywhere. Tufts formed into balls along the baseboards. A set of kettlebells in increasing size were lined up on the floor like a set of Russian nesting dolls. A lava lamp blobbed red on an oak end table.
The back wall was mostly built-in bookshelves holding tons of books, miniature Egyptian sarcophagus, and a perfect 1/25th scale model of Otto’s truck. Stella stared at the model from a half meter. A tiny gold crucifix hung from the truck’s rear view. The hi-fi system consisted of a Transcriptors turntable, a Harmon Kardon amp, and Bose speakers, all ancient by modern standards. There was a Count Basie record on the turntable. Stella looked at the two-foot shelf of vinyl: Ellington, Basie, Miles, The Rascals. All retro as befitting a man digging his heels in against the future.
On the north wall a crucifix hung above a framed print of Michelangelo’s Madonna and Child. There were three framed Ansel Adams black-and-white photographs of the mountains. Several cardboard boxes labeled EMERGENCY FOOD SUPPLIES were stacked in the corner.
Otto took off his hat and shades. He removed two Mason jars from his hand-built cabinet and opened the olive green refrigerator. “Would you like a glass of iced
***
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Hogan”
Excited barking cracked the silence. Loud, joyful barking, getting louder. Stella looked. A furred missile ran toward her tail wagging. Stella sat on her heels arms wide to receive 120 pounds of German shepherd. Steve knocked her over and furiously began licking her face. Stella laughed and laughed, half-heartedly warding the dog off with her arms.
“Well hello,” Otto said appearing minutes later. “What a surprise.”
Stella pulled the chunk of jerky from her pocket and gave it to the dog. She stood, blushing and brushing the hair out of her face. What do you say to an old lover whom you last saw in the psychiatric ward?
“Otto.”
Walking around the tank trap Otto went up to Stella and hugged her and Stella found herself hugging back, remembering the warmth of his hard body, that aftershave he wore. Even here in the wilderness. A little flame flared. She tamped it down.
Business, girl .
She stepped back a little breathless and looked at Otto. He had a military haircut and the tanned lean body to go with it. He wore a fishing vest over a white T-shirt, blue jeans and heavy leather boots. He wore an Aussie bushman’s hat with one brim pinned up and a pair of Foster Grant sunglasses. He looked like the host of some survival show.
“How long have you been here?” he said.
“Just got here.”
“Well come up to the house. I’ll show you around. Steve and I just got back. I haven’t even been in the house yet.”
“Where were you?”
“Just walkin’ around. We saw a pair of eagles wipe out an unkindness of ravens.”
“An ‘unkindness?’“
“That’s what you call a bunch of ravens.”
Steve running circles they walked toward the long low structure. The horizontal windows looked like they’d been taken from a lab. In a clearing at the far end was Otto’s Road Warrior Power wagon looming over the landscape on tractor-sized tires.
It was cooler inside the hogan-like structure. The hardwood floors were made of recycled bark beetle timber and bore that species’ unique pattern. Otto had finished them himself and put them in using tongue and groove. Navajo rugs covered the floor. The east-facing side had all the windows. A great room combined kitchen, dining, and living, two skylights shining on the painting over the mantle . Beyond that a hall led to the master bedroom, a full bath, and a spare bedroom. There was dog hair everywhere. Tufts formed into balls along the baseboards. A set of kettlebells in increasing size were lined up on the floor like a set of Russian nesting dolls. A lava lamp blobbed red on an oak end table.
The back wall was mostly built-in bookshelves holding tons of books, miniature Egyptian sarcophagus, and a perfect 1/25th scale model of Otto’s truck. Stella stared at the model from a half meter. A tiny gold crucifix hung from the truck’s rear view. The hi-fi system consisted of a Transcriptors turntable, a Harmon Kardon amp, and Bose speakers, all ancient by modern standards. There was a Count Basie record on the turntable. Stella looked at the two-foot shelf of vinyl: Ellington, Basie, Miles, The Rascals. All retro as befitting a man digging his heels in against the future.
On the north wall a crucifix hung above a framed print of Michelangelo’s Madonna and Child. There were three framed Ansel Adams black-and-white photographs of the mountains. Several cardboard boxes labeled EMERGENCY FOOD SUPPLIES were stacked in the corner.
Otto took off his hat and shades. He removed two Mason jars from his hand-built cabinet and opened the olive green refrigerator. “Would you like a glass of iced
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