Sound of Silence, final part 3

Below is part three, the final segment of the story Sound of Silence,

one man, one dog, one virus. It is as described, both conclusion and

confusion.  If you missed the first two parts of the story, they appear

below...just scroll down and you will find them. I hope you enjoyed

the story.

     Jacob put the bike back up on both wheels, retrieved the bag

with the radio and continued his way back home. The road home

was always much better…the decline was in his favor unless

an East wind would develop, but that was never very often.

A few minutes later Jacob turned the bike into the driveway and

started up the first yard road to the house. Looking up ahead he

spotted Rufus, laying down on the porch making his impression

of a tough guard dog. Ha, thought Jacob, a lab as a watch dog?

Jacob had only made ten feet or so up the drive when he was

spotted by his canine friend who leaped off the porch in his

direction. Moments later Jacob coasted to a stop as Rufus

started his ‘your home’ bark, all the while stretching on the

clothes line to which he was tethered.

Jacob placed the bag with the radio on the ground which

automatically started an inspection by Rufus. “Sorry boy,

nothin’ in there for you today…store was closed…the radio

is a borrowed gift from Ben up on High Street. He said it will

keep us in touch with what’s going on right now…the store will

be open again Wednesday…and then I’ll bring you home a treat.”

As he started to engage the kick stand, he had the feel of something

running down his arm, and he glanced quickly to see a new line of

 blood running down from the scrape. “Worse than I thought

it was” he said, as Rufus pushed into him, his tail now wagging

intently at his masters return. Jacob picked up the radio and

headed for the steps, Rufus leading the way in a furry.  Inside

Jacob pulled out the old medical kit which he had put together

years ago. Bandages, scissors, some insect repellent and his

all time remedy, Bag Balm. Used by farmers the world over,

and probably more moms, the balm was the best  for scrapes,

scratches, bites and even slight burns.  Jacob washed his injury

at the sink, applied the balm and then a two by two bandage

over the wound.

“Rufus, let’s go plug that radio in and see if we can hear what’s

goin’ on out there.”  Under the watchful eye of Rufus, Jacob

placed the radio on the bureau and plugged it in and watched

second hand starting it’s sweep just as a dim light inside the

front window illuminated ‘Western Auto.’

Jacob moved the tuning dial from left to right, at the same time

rotating up the volume. After a few seconds of crackle and static,

a deep voiced man came into the speaker announcing,

“We’ll have more on the virus in a few moments.”  Success

thought Jacob, and a smile stretched his thin lips as he uttered,

“How ‘bout that Rufus, we’re now connected to the world again.”

And with that success Jacob and Rufus made their way to the

kitchen. Time to brew some new coffee…and maybe even put

a few biscuits in the oven. Biscuits were a real treat for both of

them…Jacob remembering how his mom would mix up real

dough from scratch when he was a kid. Sitting in the kitchen

watching his mom work away and smelling that wonderful

aroma lofting from the oven. How long ago was that……

fifty, sixty or more years? Time is an odd commodity…you can’t

add to it, subtract it, you can’t alter it in any way, shape or

form, you just have to deal with it and what it delivers to you

on an hourly and daily basis.  Jacob thought immediately about

going to his journal and making some notes about what he had

experienced and felt this day. Maybe in the future someone would

read through his scraggly handwriting and try to feel the

sensations he had experienced in his ride to town and back.

    Jacob spend most of the day with Rufus doing their morning

chores and housekeeping, all the time contemplating what

would become of their town in the next week, month and beyond.

After a quick supper of eggs and toast, they had made their way

to the back porch to watch the daily ritual of seven or eight white

tails emerging from the woods at dark to feed in the new grass.

Rufus had always spotted their movement first, raising his head

and giving a slight whimper to let Jacob know the  deer were

again on the prowl. The deer would come within fifty or seventy

five yards of the them, lift their heads from time to time to keep

Jacob and Rufus in sight, then again go back to their browsing.

“Sure different then the view up Fifth Avenue uh Rufus?”

He had only been in the city once in his life, and although totally

amazed at it’s size and complexity, Jacob knew it was not a place

that he could ever live in. Too many people, too little space, too

little time to relax. It was indeed another world.

    As the sun began to set over the tall maples in the west, Jacob

summoned Rufus and  they were off to a good nights sleep.

He was tired, as much mentally as physically…and he was hoping

that sleep would come quickly. The big goal for him would be to

alleviate as much of the day from his mind as possible….often times

thinking of events of the past  would allow his mind to

release his body to much needed sleep.

    As usual, the next morning dawned, and Rufus was at his masters

bed…advancing the slight paw and pull action to arouse him for

the day.  As Jacob and Rufus moved around the dimly lit kitchen,

he thought about popping on the radio, but thought, well, there’s

all day to discover what happened overnight, no need to rush things.

Grabbing his coffee and heading for the front porch, he paused,

thinking he heard a car in the distance, approaching from town.

Yes! A quick glance to the left resulted his eyes seeing the

mail delivery car and it’s owner Mavis heading to his mailbox.

Mavis had delivered mail for years, taking over from her husband

Henry who had died twelve years before from a heart condition.

Jacob placed his coffee on the stoop and headed for the road,

his legs not what they used to be, but at least he was upright

and moving. He yelled at Mavis as she closed the box and was

within moments from pulling away.

“Mavis….Mavis…hold up!”  He was just a few yards from the

interception when he saw Mavis giving a nod, acknowledging

his request.

Out of breath from just the short run to the road, Jacob leaned

against the Mavis’s mail car. “Boy am I glad I caught you…mail

is early today isn’t it?  How’s everybody in town today? Andy

new word about the sickness?”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about Jacob…sickness?

Whose been sick that you know?”

“Well you know… the virus….I was in town yesterday..pedaling

by seven new graves at rural…talking with Bill about the store

being closed down….”

Mavis cocked her head, her eyes squinting at his intent face,

trying to get a read on his demeanor.  “Jacob…everything in

town is fine…there’s few people moving on main street…all

looks quite normal to me. Are you feeling alright? I could come

back later, pick you up and take you to get looked at somewhere.”

Jacob stepped back, a look of confusion on his face…trying to

sort out the response that Mavis had given him.

“No , no, I’m fine. I’ll just go sit a bit and collect my thoughts…

good seeing you Mavis..thanks for the mail.”

Within moments Mavis had pulled away from Jacob and his

weathered mailbox….light dust trailing her car as she made

her way down the road.

Jacob returned to the house, not even checking the box to see

what had been delivered.  Grabbing his coffee cup and sitting

on the top step, he greeted Rufus who pushed his way between

his chest and upper left arm.

“I don’t know boy….for once in my life I’m…..well, I’m not sure

what I am right now.”

As he sipped his coffee Jacob thought to himself. Had all of

this happened in a dream?  No, he HAD been in town yesterday,

he had SEEN the graves, talked to two or three there and

returned home.

But Mavis said everything was normal there… no sickness…business

as usual.

Jacob gave more consideration to the dilemma now facing him.

The radio…. and the bike!  Turning around quickly and squinting

through the screen door… he could see the radio that Ben Shanks

had loaned  him..it WAS on the bureau where he had placed it.

Jacob quickly put down the coffee cup and ran to the bike….

hurriedly inspecting the rear bumper…..the dent, the scratch..

the paint missing….it DID happen yesterday…it wasn’t a dream.

Jacob returned to his seat on the porch, Rufus, his ever loyal

friend at his side.  Should he go back to town today to see

for himself…maybe another stop at Rural cemetery on the

way?  Perhaps.

As Jacob and Rufus sat on the porch, nothing was for sure.

Is it possible that somehow, Jacob was caught in some type

of time warp? Was he somehow halfway between today’s

reality and  some event in time that did, could or might

actually take place? All good questions. 

Jacob sipped the coffee.  Good coffee made all things a

 lot less stressful.

Jacob turned an ear to listen to the nature around him.

The sound of silence.  He……… his dog… and maybe a virus?

Here he was, stuck somewhere in a place and a time that

he could not define.

I hope you all enjoyed the story…stay safe, stay well. SS

Sound of Silence, two

Below is part two of Sound of Silence, one man, one dog, one virus.

If you haven't seen the first part, just scroll down....it will find you!

The conclusion will be posted here by the weekend...stay well

out there and think warmer weather! SS

  Part two…..encountering others.

     Jacob stood over his bike, pondering the next course of action. Well,

maybe I’ll ride up Maple street and see if I discover anyone out and

about. As he aimed his bike back out into the street, he noticed a

vehicle coming his way from probably one hundred yards out.

He pulled to the side of the road and dismounted, waiting for the car to

get to him. Jacob quickly recognized the vehicle that Harley Canfield

was driving. The late 1960 Chevy had been with Harley for years

now. The lightly peeling blue paint and some rust around the

wheel wells were testament to its’ age…but the car was reliable

transportation and Harley would always brag about it to whom

ever would listen.

At the car approached he could see Harley was alone…their eyes met as

Harley pulled up, stopped and turned the motor off.

Jacob was within five feet of Harley, but Harley stuck his arm out and

said, “Better stop right there Jacob…they say this sickness is pretty contagious,

 I don’t want to get near you and you be the same with me. Damn shame

what’s going on right now.” Harley was wearing his worn out Yankees cap,

it looked as old as Harley himself with the front brim all frayed and the

Yankee emblem hardly recognizable. His heavy facial hair suggested to

Jacob that he hadn’t been out and about as Harley was usually pretty

particular about his looks.  His two tone blue checked summer shirt looked

quite pristine so Jacob concluded that he was at least keeping up with

his laundry.

    “Harley, I can’t believe what’s going on here….people sick, people

dying…..I saw the seven new graves on the way in a short time ago.

Is it this bad everywhere else?”

“Worse” replied Harley. “Some of the big cities have hundreds and

hundreds of deaths with no relief in sight. Governments said it could be

weeks or months before things get stable. You and your dog doing o.k.

out there?”

“Considering all things, I guess Rufus and I are pretty lucky to this point.

where you headed?”

“Well, Pauline Mitchell out on McCambrey road says she could use a little

help…says her kitchen sink is backed up…so I’ve got my ole pipe wrench

with me, thought I’d go out and see if I could get her back in business…

not supposed to be out and about, but she’s pretty much alone like

yourself so I agreed to go out right away and get her fixed up.”

And with that Harley turned over the engine and started out down

Main St.  giving  Jacob a little wave as he pulled away.

   Jacob watched intently as Harley pointed the old Chevy down main

St. and towards the Mitchell house.  What a nice favor indeed, Harley

going out to help the widow and her sink problem.  They didn’t make

neighbors like Harley anymore…always ready to step up in a time

of need or crisis. Jacob recalled a tragedy decades ago when another

neighbor’s house had caught fire, and Harley, being  volunteer at the

local fire dept. had gone through a downstairs window, pushing his

way through heavy smoke and flames and saving an older man from

sure death. Jacob recalled that Harley had been given the citizen of

the year award after the event.

    So here was Jacob, on Main Street, pondering his next move in

a day of circumstance that he could never have predicted, let alone

even thought of. 

   Jacob biked down to the four corners on Main street. It was the

‘hub’ of town if you could call it that. Post office on one corner,

filling station on the opposite side, the general store  and

hardware store completing the grouping. Turning up High Up

street Jacob started to push the bike upward. It was pretty steep,

probably a thirty five degree angle or better and it would require

all of Jacob’s tawny leg muscles to complete the task. Going

from side to side as he ascended the street, he looked ahead to

see if he could discover man or beast that might be out and

about. How strange thought Jacob. A beautiful spring day and

and even no movement in the air around him. It all reminded

him of when he was a kid in school, reading about a story about a

pandemic that took out populations of country after country,

leaving just flocks of birds and a few categories of four legged

animals to take over the planet.  Was he now actually living

in such a horrific time and place…the present circumstances

mirroring the story he had read as a kid?  Jacob continued his 

side to side ascent up High Street, looking from side to side as

he meandered his way up past a dozen older homes. Most people

tried to keep their properties looking halfway decent, but there

were few younger folks in town, mostly were elderly or nearing

that first social security check. The only bikes you would see running

around town on a summer day would be grand or great- grand kids

in town visiting.

     Jacob had traveled half way up High Street when a movement

to his left caught his attention. The movement was on the front porch

of what he thought was Ben Shanks’ house. Ben had lost a leg in the

Vietnam war, and after being a local mechanic for the town he had

retired in the house his mom and dad had built. The house was starting

to show a lot of signs of age, as had most houses in the town. Peeling

paint, a loose board here and there, and some missing shingles were

evidence of little maintenance provided over the years.

    Just as Jacob arrived at the house, the figure in jeans and a sweater

turned his way and sat on the three steps facing the street.

“You finally heard what was goin’ on uh Jacob?” uttered Ben as he

realigned his fishing cap over a very weathered face.

“Well, my radio has been down a couple of weeks, and I was just coming

into town for a few things…when I went by the cemetery, I about had

a heart attack seeing those new graves.”

“Pretty sad” replied Ben. “Council president Baker figures there’s going

to be more…everyone’s been told to stay home…no mingling, no

nothin’.” Jacob replied with “Yeah, Bill Larson told me from the

window over his store what a mess we’re in.”

“You and your dog are more than welcome to come into town if

you like and stay with me if you like…I’ve got lots of room and two

spare bedrooms upstairs.”

“Mighty neighborly of you Ben, thanks. I think Rufus and I will just

stick it out at the house..we have lots to keep us occupied..but my

radio’s been out a couple of weeks.”

Ben rose from his front steps, raising a hand saying “Hang on just

a minute..be right back.” Jacob watched as Ben entered the front

door, watching the screen as it tried to rush the old guy along.

Jacob continued looking up the street to the three or four

remaining houses, but there was no movement…just the now-

piercing sunshine bouncing off dust covered windows.

Within a minute or two, Ben exited the house with a heavy paper

bag…walked it down the broken sidewalk and placed it within

ten feet of Jacob’s bike.

“This is another old radio of mine, works good..it’s Western Auto I

think. Dad had it forever on the window sill out back… he’d sit

there and listen to Yankees games most very day. Take it home

and plug ‘er in…at least you’ll be back into the mix of things.”

Jacob, eyes starting to well up saying “Thanks much Ben…appreciate

it very much…it does get a bit lonely out there. Thank goodness I

have Rufus to keep me straight.” “Well there’s nothing better for

company than a good loyal dog....I miss mine…had a couple of

good ones over the years” responded Ben.

Jacob moved the bike closer, reached over for the radio and put it

in the transport bag which had attached earlier to the front handle

bar. “Well, guess maybe I’ll mosey homeward. Thanks so much for

use of the radio, I’ll take good care of it for you Ben.”

“Hope I don’t hear of any wild parties out to your place now”

Ben replied as he slapped his right knee in synche with a hearty

belly laugh.

“See you” Jacob exclaimed as he turned the bike down hill and

started his return trip to Rufus, who was surely now waiting for

Jacobs’ entry into the drive way.

At the bottom of High Street he took a quick right for home, scanning

the road at the intersection for anything coming his way.

He didn’t see the pothole directly in front of him that he had not

been aware of just ten minutes before.  Striking the hole with good

force, Jacob found his front wheel being jarred from his hand, and

he quickly wrapped both arms around the radio in the bag, not

wanting anything to damage it. The bike went down, throwing Jacob

and his now protected bag with it’s precious cargo. Jacob was alright…

just startled..it had been a long time since he had taken a spill. Jacob

brushed off the dust…placed the radio down and picked up the bike.

 It all looked intact…except for the

large dent in the rear fender…a mark caused no doubt by a good

size rock that had settled a couple of feet away. Jacob inspected

the deep mark with its paint now missing. Oh well thought Jacob…

it’s only paint…. no harm, no foul. He reached for his right

elbow, which had taken most of the brunt of his sudden landing.

He retrieved a few drops of blood and wiped them on his

jean side pocket…there were bandages at home…and he knew

Rufus would want to inspect him for more injuries.

Coming up, part three, the conclusion and confusion.

Sound of Silence

I'm pleased to present to you today part one of my three part story,
Sound of Silence, one man, one dog, one virus.

Parts two and three will follow later this week. I hope you are all
doing well, and staying occupied ....it can be difficult some days.

Enjoy the read. The story may appear in other venues as time
goes on...we shall see.

 Sound of Silence             ©                by  Stanley Swan      part one

It was another Saturday morning and Jacob Wilcox was awakened as usual by

his loyal lab Rufus who was now perched half onto the bed. Uttering a slight whine

to get his masters attention, the dog extended his front paws up and out to wake up

the old guy, after all, it was morning.  It was early, the 7:00 am daylight was just starting

to infiltrate the small upper window over the bed, barely illuminating the shot

gun that Jacob had hanging on the wall over him. A shotgun and a well mannered

lab, what more could a man ask for in his late seventies?

    Jacob gave a half roll in the direction of Rufus, the man’s hand extending to the

dogs’ head which invited one sharp bark from the wet mouth of the seven

year old. “Alright, alright, I’m ‘coming” uttered Jacob.  Rufus made a mad

dash for the front door, knowing  that the old man would soon be there to

grant his release into the morning air.

   Jacob opened the front door and Rufus made a mad dash, leaving Jacob to

examine the new day. There was light fog, but it looked dry. A crow called

from the old pine in the front lawn, the bird welcoming in the new day.

It would be a good day to ride the bike into town and get a few things he

thought. He didn’t go in often, maybe every three weeks or so…just for some

staples, maybe a few cans of soup. Rufus had a good supply of dry food,

a hefty twenty five lb. bag gifted to him by his good neighbor Bill who lived

another mile up the dirt road.

   It was a quiet life Jacob and Rufus lived. His wife Elizabeth had passed away

many many years ago, and Jacob retiring soon after,  had found this wonderful

little three room cabin that suited them just fine. The bike ride into town

would take about fifteen minutes or so…the road had a slight incline going

to town, but was almost a coast on the way back, making for an easy trip

with a bag or two on the handle bars.

Jacob didn’t have any television….his radio, an old RCA sitting on the top

of his writing desk stopped working about two weeks ago, so Jacob had

little public contact with all that was outside of his little domain. He and

Rufus had their daily routines and wanted for little.

    Jacob went about his morning chores, feeding Rufus and himself and

putting together a little list for the things he would want to pick up in

town. He exited the front door, Rufus on his right hip as always,

waiting to be put on his outside line. “I won’t be gone to long old boy…

going to bike into town, get a few things, and be back before you

know it.” Rufus gave a slight whine, but he knew he would be the one to

watch over things while the boss was gone. There was no need to lock

the front door…Jacob had little of anything worth stealing, although there

were a few pieces of silver forks and knives in the drawer that he figured

might be worth a few bucks.

    Jacob pulled the old Sears-Roebuck bike off the front porch and down

the three steps to the road. Built in the early sixties, the bike was his transportation

to and from where ever he needed to go. He gave Rufus a quick rub on the

head and pushed his way into the roadway…”I’ll be back before you know

it good boy” and Jacob came to speed, heading down the fifty foot driveway.

He pulled up to the mailbox, stopped and pulled opened the box, expecting

probably some junk mail…it had been probably a week or so since he checked it.

He received little mail, other than his monthly S.S. check. The box was empty…

except for the two or three black flies that made a quick escape toward him.

That’s kind of odd he thought to himself….nothing at all in the box…well, at least

it was less he had to take back home and to burn out back in his fire pit.

    Jacob again mounted the bike and took a left turn, pointing the bike into

direction of town. There wasn’t much there. It had been settled in the late

1800’s, a small farming community with a hardware store, gas station and

auto repair shop, and a nice little dry goods and grocery store and post

office.  He tried to recall how many lived there… he think he was told about

 five hundred, but he wasn’t sure of the number…the nearest big town of

 fifteen thousand or more was twenty miles to the west.

    As he peddled up the road, the sky was attempting to brighten up a bit

as the morning fog started to clear. It was early spring, and although it

was a bit chilly, he could feel the onset of a nice day approaching.

On his right Jacob passed heavy underbrush and a stand of oaks that

had been there since he could remember.  He continued to peddle down

the middle of the road, not worrying about traffic. It was rare that a car

would make him move over to the right to allow their passage.

As he continued up the slight incline towards his destination, Jacob looked

to his left, taking in the scene of the small cemetery which held a good

number of the town’s earliest residents as well as those that had most

recently deceased. It was odd that his town would have a death or two,

maybe every other year or so. The town’s needs were addressed by

an undertaker about ten miles away. As Jacob made his way closer to the

cemetery’s entrance his eyes popped at what was before him.

Towards the back of the cemetery, he noticed bright colors of red, orange,

white, yellow. The colors were in great contrast to the current brown and

winter -killed vegetation that covered all of the landscape.  Making a quick

left turn into the cemetery, Jacob pushed hard on the pedals as the wet

mud started to engulf the old bike’s tires. Odd he thought…there were tire

tracks here…and it looks like many vehicles had been up this road in to

the cemetery. He pushed further on, looking ahead to try to investigate the

bright colors he had seen from the road…and then he stopped.

His feet went to the ground as he caught his breath, holding the bike to

balance between his now slightly weakened limbs.

    Before him and to his right….there were flowers…..several arrangements

of flowers still displaying great colors but starting to fade in their freshness.

Jacob dismounted, put down the kickstand and held the bike waiting for it

to secure itself in its’ new position. Walking around the front tire Jacob

walked to the first grave. He stopped and inspected what was before him.

His gaze went from left to right…counting the arrangements as he began

a slow meander in the same direction.  One, then two, then three, then

four, then five, then six, and finally number seven.

    What was happening here? Jacob froze in the space that now engulfed

him…. his mind trying to analyze  what was in his eyesight. Here there were

seven new graves…. all looking to be recently dug within the last week or two.

The flowers that were on the first one were now starting to look pretty bad,

the flowers on number seven looking the freshest. But who were these people?

Had they been in one family and died in a horrific fire or accident? Then all

of sudden something else most unusual. There was what the undertakers call

a temporary marker placed at the head of each grave….but they were devoid

of a name, date or any other notation. The only inscription on each marker

was a large number in bold black, #1,   #2,  #3 and so on.

Jacob’s discovery was interrupted quickly as the silence was cut by a pair

of robin’s chasing each other just a few feet over his head. It was spring,

and everything was coming alive….except in this quiet place.

Jacob stood still…..the only sound was his own labored breathing….

in a cemetery….in the spring time…with seven new graves…and the sounds…

the absence of all….there was just the sound of silence.

   Jacob turned around and saw a small head stone about two feet high…he

walked to it and sat down…staring at the seven graves before him.  What did

all of this mean? Why were there no names on the markers… or dates….

Jacob thought to himself. Perhaps he really wasn’t here… perhaps Rufus had

awakened him, and that he had not gotten up for the day…but  rather rolled

over and gone back to sleep… that was it… he was dreaming all of this.

    Jacob sat perplexed for many minutes…minutes that seemed like hours.

The silence around him was deafening….oh it would be great just to hear

a car go by on the road just fifty years from where he sat….but it wasn’t to be.

The magic of spring continued to unfold as a scampering chipmunk ran from

behind him up to the foot of one of the near graves….stopping at the newly

turned soil, inspecting, then heading back from whence it came…presumably

not wanting to cross the dark moist soil. Jacob thought….perhaps someone in

town couple explain to him what this was all about. He rose from his grave-

stone stool and went to his bike, mounting it and reversing his path to make

his exit from this now chilling place.  A left at the road and he was now back

on his way for his staples…and hopefully some answers about the new seven

residents of this rural resting place.

    Jacob pedaled deliberately but not quickly…thinking as he pedaled about

what would await him upon his arrival in town.  As he passed two or three

houses getting close to town, he noticed no movement, no cars, no dogs

barking….just serene quiet.  He pedaled onward…and headed directly to

Larson’s grocery on main street…it was main street… actually the only road

that led in and out of town. As he neared the front door he noticed again,

the emptiness of the street, with absolutely no movement at all.

Dismounting and walking to the front door, he gave it a shove thinking it

would surrender to his movement but it did not. Jacob stepped back and

looked at a piece of paper that had been hung on the inside of the window

facing out. It read, in tall dark letters, “Sorry, store is closed until after this

virus is gone…might open Wednesday for a couple of hours.”  He recognized

 the signature of Bill Larson, the owner. He had known Bill for decades and

Jacob was sure that Bill wouldn’t be playing a practical joke here.

Now, Jacob started to shake. It wasn’t a shake in response to the cool morning

but rather to the note that he had just read.

    Virus? What virus is the note referring to? Jacob had not heard of any such

thing, but then again, his radio had been down for some time.. and he hadn’t

been to town. Jacob looked up and down the street…looking for perhaps a

light on in a house…someone moving about…but nothing. It was as if everyone

had just gotten on a bus and left town, all at once.

    Just as he was turning his bike to depart the store…he heard an upstairs

window being pulled open, and there staring down at him was the owner

Bill Larson.  “Bill” exclaimed Jacob, ”what to hell is going on here?”

“Guess no one came out to tell you what’s going on uh Jacob?  Thought

someone would have been out, but everybody’s pretty scared right now…

can’t blame ‘em.  Whole thing started a couple of weeks ago…nation -wide…

some sort of virus they can’t get a handle on…first took Beatrice Smith,

then John Osgood, then Bill Monroe, then four more all within a week or

so. Undertaker Turnball decided just to bury them all in one place real

quick like, then he’d get it all sorted out after it was all over…shame… no

funerals, nothin’….just put them in pine boxes and put them all out at

Rural Cemetery…just to get them out of town.”

“Yes” replied Jacob. “I saw all the graves when I just rode in….I was shocked.

Are you going to open the store anytime soon?”

“Well, the state says I have to close until Wednesday, then I can only open

two hours every morning, but I can only have two people in the store at a

time. Is there anything you can’t live without until then?”

“No no” Jacob replied. “I’m good for now. I’ll be back then on Wednesday.

Are you doing o.k.? And Margaret too?”

“Yes we’re o.k…..just a little nervous like everyone else I guess…I’ll see you

on Wednesday.” And with that Larson closed the window and pulled the

faded white curtains that appeared to have seen better days.

Coming up,  part two…..encountering others.