That Damn Stan is Enraged

The truck suddenly stopped and a garage door descended.  Majestic head-butted the prone human sleeping among the rotten foodstuffs.  Then he bit him on the arm just below the elbow.  Hard.

Dree RainCave groaned.  Just then That Damn Stan came round back and opened the gate.  "Fruit, Stan?  Worse than the laundry."
"Shut-up!"  That Damn Stan hissed.  "Get in the house.  First bedroom on the left is yours.  We'll talk in the morning.  And don't wake up my mother.  She'll kill you."

Majestic bunched himself up and took a flying leap, hurling himself through the air and landing on the step leading to the kitchen.  "I see you brought company.  There's a litter box in the closet."

Dree RainCave extracted himself from the moldering pile of rottenness.  "Thanks, Stan," he mumbled.  Stumbling, he followed the cat to the bedroom that was to be his for the night.  He collapsed on the bed.  He didn't hear That Damn Stan setting out the litter box or bringing in fresh water and a cat bowl full of food for Majestic.  Majestic took a giant dump in the litter box, gulped some water down, and then made himself at home on Dree RainCave's pillow.  The cat was soon asleep, encircled around his human's head.


                       ~ the next morning ~


"Get up!" That Damn Stan yelled at Dree RainCave.  "And take a shower.  You stink.  Clean clothes are set out for you in the bathroom."  The door slammed shut.  Dree RainCave squinted at the early morning sunlight streaming through the window.  "Too early for this," he whispered to Majestic, scratching him behind the ears and then rubbing the cat's chin.

The shower was steamy.  It loosened the knots in Dree RainCave's muscles and swept away the dirt from The Abandoned Field that had become part of him.  Dree RainCave dried off and inspected the clothing that the lawyer had set out for him.  Not bad, he mused.  Faded blue jeans, sandals, and a t-shirt.  The t-shirt was white and had a picture of a rat with a hockey stick emblazoned on the front.  "Albany River Rats," he read out loud.  "Never heard of them."

The smell of fresh coffee, eggs on a griddle, and hot corn muffins led Dree RainCave to the kitchen.  An attractive older woman nodded gruffly to him.  "I'm not a maid," she informed him.  "You want something to eat or drink, help yourself.  Washer and dryer are down the hallway.  While you are here, you will not make a nuisance of yourself.  Got it?"  The woman stared at him.  Dree RainCave studied her for any sign of humanity.  She was an attractive woman, maybe in her early fifties.  Athletic.  With silver hair and piecing green eyes.  "Did Majestic bite your tongue?  You will answer me, young man.  This is my domain.  Stan may have brought you here but I will kick your ass out in a heartbeat."  Dree RainCave walked over to the coffee which was located in the opposite corner of the woman.  "Yes ma'am," he said.  He grabbed a mug sitting near the big coffee pot and began pouring.  "And don't go smoking any of that marijuana stuff here.  I will call the cops on you if you do," she told him sternly.  Dree RainCave brought his coffee over to the table and sat down.  The woman stalked off down the hallway.

When Dree RainCave judged that it was safe [meaning that the woman was gone], he got up again and went over to the griddle.  He scrambled up three eggs, put them on a plate besides two corn muffins and sat back down to eat.

The corn muffins were quite good, he thought.  There was some kind of trick to them.  They seemed to have three layers instead of one.  A coarse corn meal sort of bottom, a creamy middle layer which tasted vaguely of bran, and a crusty top layer browned just right.

That Damn Stan came in then and got his own breakfast.  Dree RainCave said, "G'morning" and then ate in silence.  "I see you met my mother," Stan said.  "She's off-limits to you."  "Huh?" Dree RainCave protested. "Off.  Li.  Mits." Stan repeated himself.  "Oh stop.  Don't even start in about your Honey leaving you for some guy named Kenneth.  Honey is pregnant."  Dree RainCave looked up, startled.  "Yeah, probably yours," That Damn Stan continued.  "And no, Kenneth has no designs on your girlfriend or ex or whatever she is to you now.  Honey called me and I called Kenneth.  So quit feeling sorry for yourself."

Suddenly, That Damn Stan exploded.  "What were you thinking?  Smoking pot, trying to grow pot, and collecting parts for a computer.  Listen to me very carefully.  You must stay off the internet.  Period."  "But--"  "I don't want to hear it," Stan continued, his fury gaining momentum.  "You are jeopardizing yourself and everyone who is working to keep you from getting arrested.  This isn't a one-man operation."  Stan was practically screaming.  Veins bulged from his neck.  "If you get drunk or use drugs, you are out of here.  You won't be the first that my mother has set up for arrest.  She despises stoners, drunks, and junkies.  You will help her around the house while I am gone to work everyday.  You will not leave the property.  If I catch you with any electronic parts, I will make you disappear myself.  You are not some grand hacker guy.  For a smart guy, you really don't use your intelligence.  Quit being led around by your gonads for crying out loud.  You have first world problems.  Next time you mess up, I just might have a yen to drop you off in a Chinese village.  Or in a rehab."  Dree RainCave thought to argue but then thought better of it.  He nodded.  "I'm your friend, Dree.  Probably one of your truest friends.  Fly right, shut up, and you just might live free.  Now eat your breakfast.  I'm off today.  The three of us will be working in the garden."  That Damn Stan gave his attention over to his plate.  Food was serious business.  Seeing that no more conversation or lecturing would be forthcoming, Dree RainCave did the same.

                                ~ to be continued ~