Part 2 - Part 14

I found the porridge very salty and disgusting.

When we were done eating we went outside, around the barn and Mac opened the passenger door of his pickup truck and sat down.

“You drive,” he said. “I’ll show you the way. The clutch is a bit loose.”

“Can I drive in Ontario with a British Columbia driver’s license?” I asked.

“You’re darn right you can, this is Canada and we’re British subjects. We can do anything we like. Plus we’re both ex-military.”

After a short pause he asked, “Do you have any guns?”

“No, Sir, I left my rifle and side arm at the base when I left.”

“Good, good, we don’t want to get into trouble. My stuff is also packed away. I do have a twenty-two which I use to kill vermin but my eyesight nowadays isn’t very good. I bet you’re a crack shot; you’d have to be in your profession. I know, you can’t talk about it. Turn left at the next side road.”

“Thanks. Speaking of vermin, you’ve got rats in the barn, many of them.”

“I know. I got poison and it was expensive too, but they won’t eat it. We got a cat, a young one, but they killed it. I can’t see to shoot them. We haven’t seen an egg for months; they love to eat our eggs.”

“If it’s okay, I’ll build a trap and try to trap them but first I’ll have to get them good and hungry.”

“Turn in here, this is our local garden centre and over there, that big empty lot, we have our outdoor market on Saturdays. They sell all kinds of junk there. Now I’m going in there to see some fellows, you ask one of those girls to help you and wait for me here.”

“Okay.”

I smiled at the woman who came over to help me. She was a few years older than me. I told her I was looking for vegetables and spices.

“Look around over here but most of the good stuff has been sold, we only have rejects that nobody wants. Pick out what you want. I’ll be back.”

I went through the shelves and took all their green onions, leeks, peppers, tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, zucchini, mint, parsley and thyme. I filled two large cardboard boxes with plants that looked like crap but they were healthy.

When she came back she looked at my plants, counted them and said, “Looks like you know your plants. People don’t like them because they’re odd shaped. Looks like you have about five dollars worth but I’ll give them to you for two, on account it’s past planting season.”

I gave her five single dollar bills and smiled. She took the money, smiled back and said, “It’s nice to know you’re a friend of the farmers…”

“Phyllis, don’t mess with him, he’s a soldier boy,” Mac yelled at her.

“Oh, hi Farmer Mac, how’re doing. How’s Millie?”

“Oh, you know… the same. This here in Peter James, he works for me at the farm.”

“That’s nice,” she said to Mac, turned to me and said. “Look me up sometimes, I’m here all the time.”

On his way to the passenger seat Mac looked at the boxes, shook his head and said, “You paid money for that?”

When we arrived at his farm I stopped the truck outside a small fenced area and asked what that was used for.

“We used to isolate the chicken in there to keep them from pecking at our crops but the coyotes and foxes kept attacking them so we let them roost up there. Keep the ladder off the platform at night. You don’t want those critters climbing up onto the platform.”

“Okay,” I said, “can I use the fenced area to plant the garden and is that tap at the end working?”

“Yes the tap works, there’s plenty of water and you can do your planting in there, I’ll tell Millie.”

After Mac left I got a shovel from the shop and began to dig the garden inside the fenced area which had been fenced some time ago with eight foot high chicken wire through which rats could get in. So I figured my next job would be to get rid of the rats.

I started digging from one end. The soil was compact and the surface was laden with decomposed chicken droppings, good fertilizer for the plants. Because the soil was very hard to dig I decided to only dig the areas where I was going to plant. I dug foot wide strips from one side of the fenced area to the other, planting each as I dug it. I planted the leeks first, about sixty of them, eighty-five onions, twenty-four peppers, twenty-four tomatoes, eight cucumbers, eight zucchini and four squash. The spices I planted beside the water tap away from the vegetables.

Initially I started watering the plants with a small metal bucket but later Millie, who was watching me through the window, came over, gave me a proper watering can, shook her head and left. When I was done planting Mac came over, scratched his head like he didn’t know what to make of the situation, gave me his twenty-two rifle, a box of ammunition and a cleaning kit.

“Now get rid of them damn rats so we can start having eggs again.”

“Yes Sir,” I said and took the stuff off his hands.

“And don’t call me Sir, I’m not your sergeant,” he replied and walked away.

I was not the marksman Mac thought I was. In fact I wasn’t even average, and besides it’s impossible to shoot a moving rat, so I had to devise a better trap to catch the rats.

Drowning rats would do it but then how do you get them to drown? I looked around and found a ten gallon green metal drum with a lid on it. I removed the lid. The inside was smooth and clean and had a yellow shine that looked like it was coated with gold.

I put the lid back and it tilted because it was heavier on one side. It gave me an idea. What if I built a tilting platform of wood or something and put hinges on it, then added bait and as the rat stepped on it, the platform would tip and drop the rat inside the drum. Then I could scoop the rat out with a net and drown it in a bucket of water?

I figured doing it this way might work but it was too messy and would take a long time to capture dozens of rats. There had to be a better way.

What if I put water in the bottom of the drum, enough water to drown the rat? And what if I made the tilting platform come right back up? It could catch a second rat and so on, without resetting the trap. It was a good plan I thought.

I went around the barn looking for materials and found a quarter inch wooden dowel rod in Mac’s shop and a large, empty cardboard box. I used the lid of the drum to outline the size of the cardboard tilting platform. I made it a couple of inches narrower so that it would fit inside the drum when it tilted. I then taped the rod on the bottom of the cardboard platform a few inches away from the centre.

I went to the shop and got a jar of large metal washers and taped a couple to the side of the drum through which I threaded the rod. I then taped the ends of the rod so that it would remain in the same position after it tilted back and forth.

After that I taped a couple of washers on the bottom of the platform to counter balance the weight of the tilting platform and bring it back up once the rat fell off. I had difficulty balancing it so I added more washers. Now it was tilting too far the other way.

To keep it level I taped a short strip of cardboard which prevented it from over tilting the other way.

It was simple the way it worked. After tilting the platform forward and dropping the rat into the drum it would bounce back and be stopped from over tilting. The strip of cardboard hitting the rim of the drum would stop it from over tilting.

It was genius. But now I had to figure out where I was going to put the bait to get the rats to walk onto the platform and tilt it. And most importantly, what would that bait be?

Then it hit me. I’d use eggs. I’d tie the eggs with strings and let them hang above the tilting platform. I found a long eight inch wide strip of cardboard. I bent the top to about ninety degrees like a hangman’s platform, poked four evenly spaced holes and tied strings like a hangman’s ropes. I taped the bottom end of the cardboard to the drum and then went looking for eggs. There weren’t any. The rats had eaten them all.

So the trap was ready. I moved it closer to the place where the rats went up, placed a plank for them to climb up from the floor to the tilting platform and added about six inches of water in the drum. All I had to do now was get the eggs. To do that I had to stay there and wait for the chickens to lay some.

When I told Mac and Millie about my trap and plan, they both laughed.

“Boy, they wouldn’t eat the expensive poison I bought for them and now you tell me they’ll drown themselves? You have some imagination, boy. But don’t let us stop you,” said Mac and they both laughed again.

I spent the entire night babysitting the chickens. I found out that chickens are blind in the dark; no wonder the rats were robbing their eggs. I had a long stick in my hand and they backed off when I raised it. Then, around four in the morning I heard a crunching sound and found a rat holding an egg in its paws. It took off when it saw me. I went around the nests and found seven freshly laid eggs. I hid three in my kitchen and when it was light I took the four and taped them to the bait strings. The trap was now set.

The next night I babysat the chickens again and drove the rats away. But none of them went in the trap. I managed to save eleven eggs this time and took them and gave them to Millie. I must have looked like crap because Mac made a comment.

“What did you do, stay up and baby-sit the chickens all night? So, I take it your trap didn’t work.”

I didn’t say anything. I ate my porridge, drank my weak coffee and left.

I then went to my kitchen looking for a pan to fry the eggs but there wasn’t one.

I took one egg, broke it and dripped it all over the floor, up the plank and onto the tilting platform. I was determined to catch the rats.

It was Friday so I asked Mac if I could go to the market the next day.

“Take the truck and go, but if you want to borrow it again you’d best fix that clutch.”

“Okay,” I said and went out

I spent my Friday night babysitting the chickens again. This time I sat where the rats came up to the upper level. I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up it was daylight and the chickens had already gone out. I jumped suddenly and looked around. I counted seventeen eggs and no empty shells. Mac had twenty-two chickens and one rooster.

I figured the rats were either afraid to come up, were gone, or were trapped.

I quickly ran down the stairs and flipped the tilting platform. The drum was full of rats; some were sunk to the bottom while others were still swimming.

I got the small metal bucket, the net and a short stick. I then began to scoop the dead rats while knocking down the live ones that tried to climb up the net.

After I picked up a dead rat, I dropped it on the floor and whacked it with the stick to make sure it was dead. I then scooped it up with the net and dropped it into the metal bucket. After I did that several times I saw Mac walk into the barn.

“What’re doing there on the floor, I thought you wanted to go to the market?”

“Taking care of the rats,” I replied.

He quickly walked over and first looked at the dead rats in the metal bucket.

I flipped the tilting platform open and he looked at the live ones swimming at the bottom of the drum.

“Oh, my God, how many are there?” he yelled with disgust.

“Twenty seven,” I replied.

He then turned around and, while walking away, said, “Bury them on the side of the woodpile, where I buried my dead cat… which they killed.”

I waited until a rat drowned and picked it out. When they were all dead I reset the trap, buried the rats, took the truck and went to the market.

There were a lot of people looking down at the junk on the bare ground. It reminded me of the place on Ostikon in the outer zone where we went to get the firewater for my trial.

I saw a woman looking in my direction. It was Phyllis. She must have seen me. I waved at her and she came over.

“I see you’re wearing the same clothes,” she said. “Military – all you boys are the same, you love the military, you hate the military, you love the military.”

“Good morning to you too Phyllis, I see you’ve been looking for me.”

“Hah, don’t flatter yourself. Where is your sergeant?”

“He didn’t come.”

“That’s very unusual.”

I told her about the rats I’d caught that he couldn’t catch for months.

“You’ve pissed him off now? Better watch yourself.”

Phyllis was a nice lady and for some reason was stuck in this farm town without a husband and was always looking for one. At least that’s the impression I got. She figured me for a typical soldier with the usual problems but quickly changed her opinion as we got talking.

“You’re no soldier. Who are you hiding from? Are you a criminal?”

“All I can tell you is that I’m not a criminal. But I’ll need a friend to help me adjust here. Also, I can’t commit to anything because things may get complicated.”

I looked very serious when I said that. Then, moments later, I looked into her eyes and gave her a big smile. She put her head down on my shoulder and said she would help me.

“I have a kitchen and two hotplates but no dishes, utensils, or pots and pans,” I complained.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me away.

“You sure have rough hands,” I said.

“I’m a farmer, what did you expect?”

She grabbed a cardboard box from a pile of boxes and gave it to me to hold. She then asked me for money to which I made a joke of a sexual nature. She laughed, gave me a kiss on the cheek and pulled me away. Our first stop was pots and pans.

“I want a pan that will be big enough to cook for two.”

“Why two?”

“For when you come and visit me.”

“Do you already have a girlfriend and you’re lying to me?”

“No I don’t.”

“I have nothing but used stuff. They’re slightly burned but still useable,” said the lady sitting on the ground.

“What? They look like you found them in the garbage? Look how yellow and burned they are?” complained Phyllis in an attempt to drive the price down.

“Take it easy now and watch this,” I said.

I took one of the smaller pans, the one I was looking to buy, picked up a handful of moist, dark soil from the ground, dropped it in the pan and rubbed it with a piece of newspaper. I cleaned an area where it was burned and yellow. It looked shiny like new. The lady jumped up and looked at me.

“How did you do that?” she asked. “I spent money on dishwashing soap and nothing.” She then showed the pan to those who came to look.

“Here’s your pan and a matching dirty pot to go with it,” she said. “That’ll be two dollars.”

I told Phyllis to give her three dollars. The lady thanked me and gave Phyllis a dirty look.

By noon I had purchased everything I needed and put them in the truck.

Phyllis said, “You’ve been generous with everyone. Obviously you have money so how about you buy us some lunch. They have good food in a restaurant by the road a mile or so from here.

We got in the truck. She showed me the way. It was easy to find.

It was a small mom and pop restaurant. As I looked around Phyllis said, “What did you expect, it’s a small community, we’re lucky to even have it.”

After we sat down a fat lady came over and said, “We don’t have a menu, we only serve what we cook for the day. Today we have meat with potatoes and fresh bread.”

“We’ll have that,” said Phyllis putting her elbows on the table, her face in her hands and stared at me.

I looked at her. For some reason she reminded me of Ruzha. I examined every part of her face and stopped and stared into her eyes.

“Who are you man?” she asked.

“I already told you, I can’t tell you any more.”

“You have nerves of steel,” she said. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“You’re wrong,” I said.

“I’m a stranger right? So, how can you sit there looking back at me without flinching?” she asked.

“Two reasons,” I said. “One, I don’t want anything from you.”

“And the second reason?”

“You remind me of someone I used to admire but I couldn’t tell her.”

“So, this is how we’re going to play this game,” she said, looked me straight in the eyes and then said. “For some damn reason I believe you.”

We continued to casually stare at each other until the lady came with our food. She brought us two huge bowls of beef stew with large chunks of meat and huge slices of potatoes. It looked like it contained some spices and red pepper for sure. The woman then went back and brought us half a loaf of warm bread broken into large chunks.

I tried the bread first. It was delicious so I started dunking it into the stew and biting chunks. Phyllis started laughing out loud and got the attention of the fat lady who wanted to know if the food was okay.

“Look at him,” she said. “Dipping his bread in the broth like a peasant. I never expected that from him.”

“Don’t worry dear, he knows what he’s doing. That’s the best way to eat it. He must be Polish like me,” she said and walked away.

Phyllis shook her head, picked up a chunk of bread, dipped it in the broth and began to eat it. After that she couldn’t stop eating until all the bread was gone.

“There goes your beautiful figure,” I said.

“I’m a farmer,” she said. “I’ll burn it off.”

She paused for a moment, looked at me and said, “You think I have a beautiful figure? You think I’m beautiful? So, tell me what am I doing wrong?”

“I already told you, I can’t commit to anyone. I have my reasons.”

“No, not with you, with other men.”

“Phyllis, you’re an intelligent woman. I can have an intelligent conversation with you but all you want to do is have sex and dominate. You make men nervous and after they get what they want from you they leave. They want to escape.”

“You’re right you know, I never thought of it that way.”

“Stop chasing strangers. If you truly want to find a good partner stick with a local boy, show him some compassion, some smarts, and be his friend for a while before you jump into the sack with him.”

The lady came back with our bill and I gave her a good tip. To my surprise she said, “Oh, you don’t have to do that dear, we have money, we only work for something to do. When you’re brought up to work all your life you don’t know what else to do when you retire. Thank you anyway, come back again soon.”

“We will,” replied Phyllis and we left. I took her back to the market. Everyone had gone. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and said she had had a good time. She insisted on walking home alone.

“I know I’ll see you again,” she said.

“Why, because we didn’t have sex?”

“You got it,” she said. “See you later.”

When I got to the farm there was no one there. I figured Mac and Millie were probably napping so I took the opportunity to clean the

pot, pan, bowl and dishes that Phyllis helped me purchase. After I rinsed them outside I took them to my kitchen and left them on the counter to be washed with soap, which I didn’t have.

After that I went outside and started working on the truck. I opened the hood. The engine was filthy with oil and dust. I couldn’t get under the hood to fix the clutch until the filth was washed off. I looked around Mac’s shop and found a large can of liquid hand soap, the kind mechanics use to clean their hands. I took that, a large paintbrush and a bucket of water and cleaned the entire engine and carburetor. I dumped a couple of buckets of water and rinsed the engine clean. After that I washed the paint brush and put things away.

When the engine was dry I opened the clutch. It wasn’t worn at all? I checked the mileage on the truck, it registered 21,468 miles. It was an old truck but hardly driven. The clutch needed a minor adjustment and it was fixed.

I pulled the sparkplugs out, they were filthy. I cleaned them, adjusted their gaps and put them back. While I was doing that Mac showed up.

“You missed lunch, you got to let us know if you’re going to skip meals. I see you’re working on the truck, I hope you fixed the clutch.”

“Sorry about the lunch, it won’t happen again. And yes I fixed the clutch. Also, I want to tell you there are some eggs up there, what would you like me to do with them.”

“Okay, you can drive the truck but I want the fuel tank full at all times, you burn it you pay for it. The eggs you can take inside and give them to Millie. Maybe tomorrow morning we can have eggs for breakfast, before church. You’ll be taking us to church.”

Okay,” I said and finished putting the spark plugs back. I then checked the oil and other fluids; everything was okay.

I collected the eggs and took them to Millie. She didn’t say anything. I asked her if I could borrow some dishwashing soap but she said no, it cost money.

I went back to my kitchen and washed everything again but without soap.

There was nothing to do to pass the time. It was Saturday evening and I had nothing to do. We had supper in silence and when I asked Millie if I could help with the dishes she said no.

I went back to the barn and started to look for things to do. There wasn’t much to do. I kept thinking of Phyllis but, outside of taking Mac’s truck and driving to her place, I had no way of contacting her. I didn’t even know where she lived. Perhaps I could bring her here, I figured, but decided it would be a bad idea. I was beginning to think I had made a mistake settling on this farm.

First thing I did the next day was look for eggshells. There weren’t any. I counted twenty eggs. I left them there for now and went into the house for breakfast.

Millie gave me one boiled egg and some watered down coffee.

I didn’t say anything.

I put on a long-sleeved military shirt, military pants and military boots to go church. I didn’t want to go inside the church but I was sure Mac and Millie would make me. It was a Protestant church.

When we walked in I saw Phyllis sitting up ahead on the far side looking at me. I waved her to come over. She shook her head, “no”. I sat with Mac and Millie for a while. Then later I said I was going out for a smoke, even though I didn’t smoke. The old sergeant was an ex smoker and knew what that was like, so he approved. Phyllis saw me and came out a little later.

The moment she came out I grabbed her and squeezed her. I said, “I’m trying to help these people but they’re squeezing the life out of

me. I think I’m a patient person but I can’t take it any more. Can I come and stay with you?”

“I know you don’t mean that,” she said. “I live with my parents, they’re the same way but they’re my parents. I have no choice. I can’t help you. But, if it comforts you, I can tell you that a lot of soldier boys have been to that farm and they all ended up the same way.”

“What do you mean?”

“They left angrier than when they arrived. Stay for as long as you can but be prepared to leave on short notice.”

“I have no vehicle; will you come and see me sometimes?”

“Not a chance, they hate me.”

And just as we were talking, Mac and Millie showed up behind me. Phyllis suddenly dropped her arms from me.

Mac said, “Do what you want on your own time but I don’t want to see that whore on my property. I don’t want you fornicating in my house.”

I could have broken the ignorant bastard’s neck for saying that. He was a disgrace to the military and a poor excuse for a human being. But instead I said, “Yes Sir.”

“Take us home now,” he said and they both got into the truck.

I looked at Phyllis. She smiled and winked at me. I smiled back.

After I dropped them off in front of their door I told them that I would no longer be eating meals with them from now on.

“That suits me fine. You’d better fix that fence by the road next week; you can have the rest of the day off today,” Mac said.

“Okay,” I said and got back into the truck and drove back to the church. Phyllis was still there waiting for her parents to come out.

“Follow me but stay back, I’ll drop them off, leave the car at home and I’ll join you.”

I waited in the truck about twenty minutes before Phyllis drove out of the church parking lot. Five minutes later she pulled into a driveway, took her parents inside and told them she was going for a walk.

She walked over to my truck and looked at me with sad eyes.

“I feel so sorry for you. You’re a good man and don’t deserve this,” she said.

I smiled at her.

She began to cry.

“This is going to end tragically, isn’t it? I must be cursed because every time I meet someone I really like they leave me.”

“Phyllis, today we’re together and have the entire afternoon to spend together, let’s be thankful for that. Let’s be thankful for each day we have together and not worry about what happens tomorrow or in the future. I have no plans to leave and by the time I leave you’ll want to get rid of me anyway.”

She grabbed me by my neck and squeezed it. She was both crying and laughing at the same time smudging her face with her tears. She was a nice woman.

I gave her a hug and said, “The day is ours, where would you like to go?”

“Why don’t we go to town, it’s about ten miles from here. We can go and eat at a fancier restaurant and I’ll pay, if you like.”

“No my dear, not as long as I’m alive. No woman is going to pay for my dinner.”

She whacked me on my arm and felt my arm muscles.

“Not even the hardest working farmers have muscles like that,” she said. “Who are you?”

“Phyllis…,” I said.

“I know, I know, why can’t I leave things alone and just enjoy the moment...? I think because it’s a human thing to be curious.”

“There is a saying that goes like this: ‘Curiosity killed the cat’ and there must have been a good reason why this saying was coined.”

As we continued down the road Phyllis looked down. She was sad again. I stopped the truck and asked her what was wrong.

“Just hold me for a while and I’ll be fine. She began to cry and said, “You’re smart and you can rationalize things but I can’t. I am fragile and lonely. No one here wants me. In fact they hate me. They think I’m a whore for wanting to be loved and for wanting to have some human kindness. What did I ever do to deserve this?”

“Nothing my dear, it’s your fate. Like it’s my fate to want… but never to have...”

She looked at me and said, “Why? That makes no sense.”

“I can’t tell you, please be happy for what we have and ask for no more.”

She grabbed my hand and squeezed it and said, “Okay.”

As we drove down the long road she continued to sob but was slowly coming around.

“I had a dull but okay life, until you came along… Now, I don’t know.”

Moments later we turned right and were in the parking lot of a large mall. The restaurant was inside the mall.

“Am I going to be okay in this uniform?” I asked.

“Sure, why not,” she said and slammed the truck door shut.

“We’re lucky,” she said. “The lunch crowd has left and the dinner crowd hasn’t arrived yet because usually this place requires a reservation.”

A nice young lady sat us down and asked us what we wanted to drink before we ordered. The waitress was a younger perky girl.

I turned to Phyllis and said, “You can order whatever you desire my dear.”

“The waitress smiled and said’ “You seem like a nice couple, are you newlyweds?”

To my surprise Phyllis said, “Yes we are dear and we’re very much in love.”

“We have a policy here and have a small bottle of champagne on ice for just such an occasion,” she said.

“No, that’s not necessary,” I said.

“Why not?” Phyllis snapped. “I’d love to enjoy my honeymoon with some champagne.”

I smiled at the waitress and she smiled back at me as she left to get the bottle of champagne.

“What are you doing Phyllis, this is dishonest, and what if they ask as to prove we’re married?”

“They won’t ask for that, come on, for a bottle of cheap champagne?”

“Okay then. You’re going to hate me when I leave the perky girl a big tip.”

“You’re going to leave her a big tip anyway, even if she spits in your soup.”

“Phyllis, please, you sound like a jealous teenager.”

She looked at me, smiled and said, “So, what if I am, this is my night and I’m going to enjoy it just like you said.”

The girl was prompt with our champagne, food, drinks and dessert. She smiled and we smiled back every time she came over.

“She is good, very good,” said Phyllis.

When we were done eating I left her a big tip like I said I would and kissed her on the cheek. The young girl jumped up and yelled, “YES!”

“You made her day,” said Phyllis. “How about making mine now?”

“No, Phyllis, that isn’t going to happen…”

She was quiet as we drove to her place in the dark. She walked outside from the passenger seat to my window and said, “I don’t know what to make of you. You want me as much as I want you but…”

I gave her a kiss and told her I’d a great time. She said she’d a great time too.

“See you,” I called.

“I know I’ll see you again,” she said. “And you know why… and don’t say it.”

And with that a great Sunday evening ended and I returned back to my self-made hell.

The next day I made a list of items to purchase. I drove to the garden centre, met Phyllis and told her what I was planning to do but had no idea where the grocery store was. She told me to wait until noon when she took her lunch break. She took me to the grocery store and helped me pick up my groceries. I got us a sub sandwich for lunch.

When I collected the eggs I consistently kept at least three for my breakfast before I gave them to Millie.

Over time the vegetables in the garden grew and began to mature. I decided to give the first cucumber to Mac and Millie but they refused it.

“We don’t want your damn vegetables that you grew on chicken shit. If we wanted any we would have planted them ourselves,” Mac said.

After that I fed the extra vegetables to the chickens. I frequently took some to Phyllis and she gave some to her parents and the rest to her neighbours.

My time with Phyllis was great, we managed our relationship without complications and we managed to enjoy ourselves very much. But my strain with Mac and Millie became unbearable to a point where Mac demanded that I not see Phyllis anymore or he’d throw me out and if I didn’t leave he’d call the police to have me evicted.

It was the end of September when I had finally had enough, packed my bags and left without telling Mac or Millie. It was a Saturday morning when I walked to the market and found Phyllis there. She began to cry when I told her that I was leaving.

I asked her to drop me off at the nearest bus station. She drove me out to a country road and pleaded with me to stay. I told her that this was inevitable and that was why I couldn’t commit to a relationship with her. She stopped the car and began to wail out loud. It was

useless talking to her. She cried her eyes out as I held her tight in my arms.

“Our relationship will end in a disaster if I don’t leave now,” I said.

“I can’t understand what awful things you could have done to deserve this and punish me like this?”

“Would it be easier on you if I was killed and left you with a child? That’s exactly what’s going to happen if I stay here and have a relationship with you. Do you hear me?” I yelled. “You don’t want to know what I know. Please be thankful for what we had.”

Finally she heard me and said, “I’m so sorry. I’ll take you to the bus station in the next town but I’m finding it difficult to let you go.”

She started the car and sobbed all the way to the bus station. I asked her to leave me there and drive back because I didn’t want her to know where I was going. She said she understood but kept sobbing. I gave her some money.

She gave me a miserable look.

“This is for all the things I was going to give you but never did,” I said.

I apologized for our time being cut short. She was angry at me at first because I had given her money but, after thinking about it, she took it.

“I always wanted a watch, I’ve never had one. I think I’ll buy myself one and think of you every time I look at it,” and she began to cry out loud again.

I grabbed her, squeezed her hard, kissed her, told her to drive carefully and yelled at her to go. She did.

I sat down on the curb in the bus station parking lot pulling my hair out. I felt very sorry for what I had just done to Phyllis.

I didn’t know what to do. Where was I going to go? I then got this feeling that Phyllis might come back so I decided to leave the bus station and walked into town.

I walked along the main road until I reached a big restaurant. I went inside, went to the washroom and washed my face. I then went to order some food. I saw a cheese and ham sandwich on toast on the menu up above. As I stood there waiting for my sandwich to be made I heard a lot of swearing and yelling coming from the kitchen. My waitress, a beautiful young girl, came over, lifted her arms above her shoulders in defeat and said, “I’m sorry!”

The cook came over and said, “I’m sorry sir, my toaster broke so unless you can fix it, we have no more toasted bread. Please order something else.”

“Sorry to hear that, can I have a look at your toaster?” I asked.

“You’re joking right?” he asked, looking at me. “Please be my guest…”

To make a long story short, I not only fixed his toaster but I fixed every piece of equipment they had that was broken. I replaced the entire array of electrical sockets and upgraded the entire wiring system in the kitchen. The owner was so happy that, in addition to paying me a hefty fee, he offered me a full time job, gave me access to free food in the restaurant and a room above the restaurant.

A lot of young ladies, mostly students from the local college, worked in the restaurant evenings and weekends and I enjoyed their company. I often helped them with their homework.

One older woman about my age used to come upstairs for a smoke and I spent a lot of time listening to her complaining about her family, friends and especially about her boyfriends. She stunk like an ashtray so I stayed away from her. She often asked why I didn’t want to have a relationship with her and every time I told her I was already married.

One day one of the young waitresses, a beautiful thin girl who suffered a lot from stomach cramps, came over and asked me to help her move her furniture from a home to an all girl’s student residence run by nuns. I borrowed the restaurant’s van on a Saturday and moved her. The room she was moving into, unfortunately, had been demolished by the previous girl and many things were broken.

When we got there she began to cry and complained to the nuns. They had no caretaker or handyman to do the repairs. She turned to me and cried in my arms. I knew she was a hard worker and was also sick. I felt sorry for her so I said I’d do the repairs immediately so that she could move in because she had nowhere to go. I worked late into the night but I couldn’t finish the job. I told the nuns that I was going to take her to my place for the night but they objected.

“He’s been like a brother to me for over a year and I trust him, don’t worry,” she said.

We came back the next day early in the morning and finished the job.

The nuns told me that they could use my skills here if I wanted to volunteer. They could offer me food and a place to stay but that was about it. I told them I would think about it.

The next day was Monday, the manager of the restaurant called me in and said he’d had a complaint about me taking the van on the weekend.

“I’ve been using the van to do chores for two years now and no one has complained, why now? The owner is my friend and I’ve helped him a lot. What does he have to say about that?” I yelled.

He got upset and told me that he was the boss here, not me. So I told him where to go. I was very angry and figured if I didn’t leave right then that I’d break his neck. As a last act I took his autographed baseball bat and smashed it against the cement floor.

When I showed up at the residence and told the girl what had happened she immediately took me to see the nuns and they came through with their offer.

We were friends for a long time and with my help, over time, the girl overcame her stomach cramps, which were caused by anxiety and too much stress.

The nuns gave me a place to stay and access to a shop where I repaired and built whatever was needed for the students. I spent the next year and a half volunteering at the residence.

Besides the room where I stayed there was a large open space with a fireplace which I furnished with chairs, tables and couches I’d found in the garbage and refurbished. It was a quiet space for the girls to rest, do some reading and help each other with their homework. I had a fire burning for them a couple of hours each day after school when it was really cold outside.

I spent almost five years in isolation since I had been abducted, almost one year on the base in BC, three months on a farm, two years in a restaurant and a year and a half in a girl’s residence. I helped a lot of girls with health problems, money problems, family problems, boyfriends and even with their schoolwork.

One day a man, a stranger, arrived at the residence and said he wanted to speak with Peter James. One of the nuns brought him up to my place and left.

He was very brief and to the point. “You’ve been recalled to Ostikon, be on top of the hill up there on Sunday at midnight,” he said and walked away.

I didn’t see her but a girl was lying down on a couch beside us and after the man left, she wanted to know what was going on and who this man was.

My lying instinct kicked in and I said, “I’ve been recalled by the military to go on a special mission about which I can’t talk.”

She ran over and after she gave me a hug she went outside and told her friends. Everybody knew by the end of the day.

At the same time I went over to the telephone room and called Risto Stefov, my childhood friend, and told him to come over and meet me here at the residence the next day.

He agreed and came over. I spent the entire day telling him my story from the day I was abducted to the day I was dismissed from my services at Ostikon. I didn’t tell him how I got back to earth and what I’d done here. I didn’t tell him in order to protect my friends. I also told him to keep all this a secret.

He said he would and I believed him.

On Saturday the girls had a party for me. I was dressed in my military uniform as each girl lined up and said goodbye.

The next day I spent packing. I made sure I had my badge with me because without it I would be nobody. I gave all my possessions, including my money, to my girls and told them I wouldn’t need them where I was going. The only things I kept were some clothing to get me there and my gold watch so that I could be on the hill at precisely midnight. I burned all of Peter James’s documents including his diary.

I figured once I was gone I wouldn’t return. They were recalling me to either kill me for disobeying orders and leaving the base or they needed the ship and once I gave it to them they would kill me anyway. In any case I figured if I couldn’t live the life I was meant to live here on earth, I wasn’t going to come back.

At precisely midnight a shuttle arrived and took me away.