Wackos to Obliterate: Book One (Chapter 4)
On her way to buy a soft drink from a vending machine outside the small store run by the campground, Mavis noticed a strikingly attractive young woman in a plaid shirt and jeans leave the store carrying a small paper bag of groceries. With her wavy, light-brown hair and her petite but shapely frame, she looked a little like many of the heroines plastered on the covers of romance books: cradled in the bare muscular arms of a tall, dark, boy toy. After Mavis retrieved a cold plastic bottle from the machine and turned to head back, she saw the young woman knock on the door of the small travel trailer parked to the left of their fifth wheel. Mavis could just make out, through a small window beside the door, the silhouette of someone hold the aluminum door for her as the woman entered the trailer. I thought he wanted to go hunting. Maybe they went out earlier?
As she neared her trailer, the door opened again and out popped the top half of the girl.
“I hate to bother you, but do you know if there’s a decent supermarket in town? The store here is pretty expensive.”
Mavis looked at the girl who was even prettier close up. “I think there’s a Marsh on Second.”
“Oh, that’s great. There’s a Marsh near our house in Indy. Frankie, she said there’s a Marsh in town.”
“Let’s check it out. It’s insane paying the prices here.” The same voice Mavis heard the day before came from inside the trailer.
“There’re also a few reasonably priced restaurants as well.”
“Maybe we should just grab a bite to eat and then go shopping,” the girl said as she stepped outside.
“Yeah, let’s do that.” Franklin, also wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, followed her outside. As he stood next to the girl with an arm draped casually around her shoulder, Mavis was surprised how similar he resembled her mental image of the ranch hand in her current novel. “By the way, you must be May . . .”
“Mavis . . . that’s right . . . you spoke with my husband yesterday.”
“George.”
“Yep.”
“Well, I’m Franklin and this is . . .”
“Autumn,” the girl said as she squeezed Franklin lightly around the waist.
“It’s nice to meet the both of you. You make a very handsome couple.”
“I take it your husband’s not here at the moment.”
“He went to waste the morning jabbering with an old friend who lives in town.”
“I gather you’re not from Indiana.” Franklin glanced around, trying to locate a license plate or geographical indicator on the trailer.
“We raised our family in Boise, but we’ve been nomads the past couple of years after retiring.”
“I’d love to travel around the country,” Autumn said.
“Are the two of you planning to stay a few days?”
Franklin looked down as he kicked at the gravel with his tennis shoe. “We’re here to hunt ducks, but weren’t very successful this morning.”
“We’ll go out again early evening.”
“So, you like to hunt, too?” Mavis was a little surprised that such a petite young woman would tote around a shotgun.
“I love it.”
By the time George returned, the neighbors had left for town and Mavis was back at her writing. As George fired up his laptop, he wondered if it might be best to quit trolling since both Rick and Julian sounded so paranoid about security. During today’s meeting, they painted a much more ominous picture than he suspected. He knew that the U.S. military had recently opened a department dubbed CYBERCOM and that the NSA and some other governmental agencies routinely monitored websites. But when they stated that it appeared there had been a few targeted killings recently, working part-time at a big-box store sounded like a much safer way to make ends meet in his golden years than astroturfing.
By the time he got busy posting some comments, though, he got wrapped up into developing his rap and promoting his message. Before he knew it, he had spent a greater part of the afternoon trolling while Mavis sat in front of her computer. Just as he felt ready to take a break, George got a call on his internet phone.
“Are there any empty spaces in your campground?” Rick wanted to know.
“What kind of RV?”
“Julian is camping out at my place, but he needs a hookup for LP gas.”
“They’re pretty full, but I’ll check and get back to you in a couple of minutes.” George found that there were still a couple of spots, so Julian was soon signed in as another “happy” camper. Since his was a converted 1-ton cube van, he was unable to get a spot close to the “reputable” RVs; rather, he was directed to the most out of the way spot in the park. At least he got a spot. Many RV campgrounds will refuse to rent to self-converted vehicles.
George was a little surprised that Julian owned such a truck since you could get a commercially built C-class RV for not much more than it probably cost him to make the conversion. Once George finally got up the courage to broach that subject, he learned the truck was a leftover from a bath renovation business Julian ran before the housing market tanked. Shortly after he went out of business was when he started trolling professionally.
“Before I was able to sell the truck, I realized it was more sensible for me to go mobile since I have no wife or kids. After looking around at RVs and finding it hard to sell the truck, I came across an RV conversion site online that raved about how great of an RV you could make from a cube van like mine. Within a few months, a buddy and I got it converted and I’ve never looked back.”
“Do you often face discrimination in RV parks?”
“Oh yeah, that’s why I wanted to stay parked at Rick’s, but I had to find a dump station for my holding tank. Luckily, this place let me in.”
“I guess civil rights at RV parks is a cause we should promote, huh?” George said.
“Yep, after this election cycle is over, that’s around the top of my agenda. Need to start astroturfing RV club websites.”
“Good Sam Network, watch out!”
“Close down their site until civil rights are had for all!”
“Maybe Anonymous will get into the act.”
“Why do you say that?” The mirth in Julian’s vagina beard vanished.
George noticed the abrupt transformation. “Just a joke.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Lying in bed waiting for sleep to come, George wondered what made Julian react so strangely once he mentioned Anonymous. All George knew about the group was what had been reported in the media the past couple of years. After visiting with Julian for a short while helping him get settled in, George checked out Anonymous. According to their website, they were a “decentralized network of individuals focused on promoting access to information, free speech, and transparency . . .” and they used their “unique skill sets to expose companies that practice poor corporate governance and are involved in large-scale fraudulent activities.” George started to wonder if something about the latter point was what bothered Julian. After all, what did George know about where the money came from that supported his astroturfing? Up until now, he thought it came from something like a Super PAC, a group of individuals or corporations who could spend money in support of or opposition to a candidate. Maybe Julian knew more about the bigger picture.
If it was because he was worrying about the “real” situation or not, whatever the reason, George was unable to sleep. Numerous times he considered making Mavis hot and bothered since it usually relaxed him enough to sleep after they had sex, but he knew she would blame him the next day if she had difficulty sleeping after he woke her. Of course it would have been less selfish to have pressed the romantic buttons before she fell asleep, but he went to bed a little earlier than her since he felt tired at the time while she wanted to stay up a little longer to write.
Actually, though, for the past several months or more, they hadn’t been making love very often except when she appeared to be affected by her writing or from reading some other romance writer (which she called “research”). Occasionally, she would say they had graduated or retired from such recreation, but this made him angry since he didn’t want to “lose it” as in “if you don’t use it . . .” In reality, though, he was finding he no longer had much interest in going through the motions. Perhaps, her gradual weight gain had resulted in him feeling a little fatigued pushing back to her motions and even his thighs began to feel they were losing some of their circulation when she sat on him. At such times he would climb on her, but she would start to complain at how her legs were too stiff and hurt whenever he tried to get her to wrap them around his body or when he tried to hold them up.
As he stared at the plastic wall-papered ceiling and watched the vague shadows from light that filtered in through the drapes, he came to the realization that they rarely had sex more than five or six times a month. Just a year or two ago, he would check out some pornography on the internet occasionally, but it had been months since he bothered to do that. There were a few times he considered purchasing some Viagra, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it since he feared heart trouble. Maybe it was best to let nature run its course.
Eventually, he began to doze off, but his insomnia returned when the young couple next door began to move about and shortly after drive away in their pickup; no doubt, on their way to exterminate some ducks. After this, he decided to get up and do a little trolling.
After closing the partition between the bedroom and the living/dining area, George noticed that Mavis had left her computer on the table – having moved it there when George decided he wanted to go to bed early. Since her machine was newer and faster than his, he decided to use it for a change.
Maybe her screen resolution is better than mine. George turned it on and in a manner of minutes he began searching a few websites to find some wacko to obliterate. One thing he was quick to notice by using her computer was that he could make a new identity. At present, he had four. He had made one with each different webmail account he had, but he found it was getting increasingly harder to make two different webmail accounts through the same webmail provider if he used the same computer. By using a different computer, though, he was able to make another one with ease. I’ll save that one for when I need another observer or follower.
Before he knew it, the sun had risen and it was getting to be time for him to get ready to meet the boys. I guess I could ask Julian if he wants to drive over with me.
The partition opened and Mavis appeared. “What’re you doing up so early?”
George looked up and smiled at his wife as she entered the room still dressed in her pink cotton pajamas. “For some reason I couldn’t sleep, but I’m getting tired now.”
“Are you going to meet again this morning under the bridge with the other trolls?”
“Yeah, but I really don’t want to go. I guess I should find out if the big guy, Julian, wants to go together.”
She sat down on the other side of the booth. “Man, he is big, isn’t he? By the way, why are you using my computer?”
“You had it sitting here so I thought I’d check out what you’ve been writing.”
“Very funny.”
“I just thought it be a change to use a quality machine. Really, I need to get a new one. I noticed that Julian’s got several with him.”
“You weren’t using my machine to astroturf were you?” She grabbed the back of the monitor and turned it around to see what George was viewing. Just then, they could hear Franklin and Autumn’s pickup pull in to the space next door.
“They must have gone hunting,” George said to change the subject. Mavis looked at the news site where George had been posting his comments.
“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t use my computer to do your job. So, who’s Tirebiter?”
“That’s Georgie Tirebiter. Don’t you remember Firesign Theater?”
“How many names do you use?”
“Trade secret. By the way, I’m curious to see if they bagged a couple.” George got up from the booth and walked across the room to look out a window that faced the young couple's travel trailer and saw them pull their rifles and some hunting gear out of the pickup. He walked to the door and opened it. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” Franklin replied.
“How was the hunting?”
“Pretty good, I got two and Dead-eye Dick here, got three.” Franklin motioned to Autumn pulling a hunting bag out of the cab.
“Feisty little heifer, eh?”
Autumn frowned. “Hey, don’t get sexist.”
“Sorry, I meant that as a compliment. No offense intended,” George replied, demonstrating his social ineptitude in a supposedly more ‘equal’ gender-based world than the intense male-dominated mindset prevalent at the time of his birth that then ebbed and flowed during the subsequent decades of changing attitudes – even after raising a daughter around Autumn’s age, he still fucked up frequently.
“No offense taken. Just watch it or I might get you in my sights next.” She put down the bag and held her arms like she was carrying a gun.
“Cocked, dead aim,” Franklin said, grinning.
“Glad I’m not a fowl, just got a foul mouth.”
“That’s a foul joke, George,” Mavis said as she poked her head outside. George turned and rolled his eyes.
“What can I say? Remember our first date, Mavis? We went to a movie and I held open the door for you at the theater. What did you say?”
“Thank you?”
“I can do it myself.”
“I didn’t say that,” Mavis replied as she stepped outside wearing one of George’s long coats over her pajamas.
Franklin grinned and shook his handsome head. “Glad I didn’t have to handle those early days of Women’s Lib.”
“You know, you aren’t the paragon of sensitivity yourself, Mr. Can’t-Remember-To-Put-Down-The-Toilet-Seat.”
Mavis placed her hands together like in prayer. “Amen sister, Amen.”
“I guess from one dick to another, would you like to take one of these ducks off of our hands?” Franklin pulled the dead ducks, bundled together, off the back of the pickup.
“Have you ever tasted wild duck?” Autumn asked.
“I ate pheasant quite a few times as a kid, but I’ve never had duck. Have you, Mavis?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“Well, I think one of these mallards has your names on it.” Franklin held the game tote with ducks strapped to it by the necks; seemingly proud to display the fowl they killed.
“I don’t know much about wild game. Don’t you have to hang it for a few days before you cook it?” Mavis asked.
“I think it’s already dead.”
“You know what I mean, George.”
“Actually, I know a great recipe for duck eaten on the day of the kill. No hanging necessary. Please, give them that fat one.” Autumn pointed to one of the birds. Franklin laid them on the ground, separated Autumn's choice from the others and handed it to George. “If you want, I can help you cook it. We could feast on duck for supper.”
“You know, that sounds like a fine idea, but our oven isn’t very large,” Mavis said.
“I’m sure it’d fit, but if not, I know a way to sauté the breasts and thighs in a pan. Actually, it’s better to prepare wild duck that way since you don’t have to worry about overcooking it.” A cell phone started ringing. Franklin touched one of his pockets and pulled the phone out. While he talked on it, the other three watched the ducks on the ground and for some reason kept silent.
“I hate to say it, but I think we’ll have to head back to NapTown this afternoon. An emergency came up at the agency.” Franklin informed them after he hung up.
Autumn reached down and picked up the duck. “I’ll help you pluck it and marinate the breasts. It’s best to keep them in the bag for 12 hours, but six or so is fine. Anyway, I’ll teach you the recipe before we go. Franklin can prepare the trailer for takeoff, can’t you honey?”
“Aye aye, Captain. I’ll check to see if we have enough Dilithium crystals for warp drive.”
“Actually, bay leaves and garlic would be more useful.”
“For warp drive?”
“No, the marinade. Also, we need six ounces of orange juice and some red wine.”
“I need to drive into town to meet someone for breakfast, I could pick up a few things at the grocery store,” George said as he looked at his watch.
Mavis looked at him and frowned. “You really have to meet on Saturday morning?”
“I think so, but I’ll check with Julian first. Perhaps, he’ll want to ride along with me. Anyway, I’ll get the stuff and bring it back by 10 or 11.”
Mavis looked a little confused for a second. “Who’s Julian? Oh yeah, the guy with the converted truck.”
“Well, I’m pissed that we’ve got to head back so soon. We just got here late Thursday. I thought we were going to get a couple of days off.”
“It’s an emergency. I’m sure I can get us a little more time off next weekend.”
After George left, Franklin started to remove the main feathers and cut off the wings and legs while the women went inside the fifth wheel to heat some water. Autumn noticed the large number of novels scattered around.
“I’ve read a lot of these myself. I don’t know why, but I just love reading romances.”
“They do draw you in after a while, don’t they?”
“I just enjoy reading more than watching TV or spending time on the internet.”
“It’s pretty hard to curl up with a good laptop.”
“I agree, but I do read less paper now that I’ve got an e-reader.”
“Yeah, I think I read more e-books than traditional books.”
“They’re a lot cheaper. So, what’s next?” Mavis asked. Autumn noticed the water was just beginning to boil.
“We should take this outside and add the paraffin to it. Then we dunk the duck in it a few times. After we soak it in cold water for about ten minutes, we’re ready to pluck the sucker.”
“Sounds a little like rape.”
“Worse than that, we killed it remember?”
The rank smell of warm, wet feathers surrounded them as the women worked and talked about some of their favorite romances.
“It all seems like soft porn to me,” Franklin said.
“You’re just jealous,” Autumn said as she peeled the paraffin and feathers off the duck.
“I don’t know why. You’d be a great model for one of the covers.”
“It’s true; my little darling would make a great book cover.”
“I think I’ll leave you two to your devices. I’ve got to check on the condition of the Dilithium crystals.” Franklin walked back to their trailer to take a leak, shaking his head as though he thought they were just toying with him. He felt a little awkward and uncomfortable by their compliments, but he did agree that he would make as good of a model as any of the other jerks they used on those stupid covers.
“I can’t believe it! You wrote it? I loved that book!” Franklin heard Autumn say as he stepped back outside.
“You’re just saying that.”
“No really, I loved it! Hey Frankie, she’s a novelist!” Mavis could feel her face turn red. This was the first time she had actually met a fan in person. Just then, George came back with the fixings.
“I left Julian there. The shopping gave me a good excuse to get away. It seems pointless to have all of these meetings.”
“What’re you meeting about?”
“That’s kind of nosy isn’t it, Frank?” Autumn gave him a strange look.
“It’s one of those multi-level marketing things,” George quickly replied. “You know how retired people are; always looking for ways to stretch that pension dollar.”
“That heavy-set guy just happens to be one of the bigger fish in their pyramid scheme,” Mavis added.
“It’s not a pyramid scheme, it’s multi-level marketing.”
“Really Frank, you should mind your own business,” Autumn scolded.
“Speaking of which, we really have to get back.”
“In the truck, Julian said he knew a great recipe for duck.” George opened the refrigerator to quench his thirst with chilled water and saw the plucked duck inside a plastic bag filled with a marinating solution.
“If he’s still here next weekend, he could teach it to Autumn.”
“Are they really going to go hunting again so soon?”
Mavis got up from her small desk and joined George in the kitchen area. “According to her, they like to fill their freezer with duck. She claims it’s healthier than hormone-enriched chicken.”
“It might be, but it must certainly get expensive driving back and forth from Indianapolis. Hey, we should invite Julian over for supper since I let it slip about the duck.”
“Do we have to?”
“Well, he seems to be a maniac for duck. He literally talked my ear off about how he hadn’t had any for a long time. I guess he’s seriously thinking about doing some hunting while he’s here as well.” He took a drink. “Oh I forgot, but Rick is having a barbecue at his place tomorrow.”
“Ol’ Troll Central is really becoming a social hub, isn’t it?”
Links to previous chapters of Book One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3