Page 17 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
My best friend might be questioning my sanity.
But I know something is up. I can feel it in my bones, and I’ll be damned if I will stand by and let some vagabonds try to push my family out of business.
Standing tall, ready to go, I hold my flashlight at my chest like a BB gun and say, “This is my farm, and I have to defend it.”
With my intentions set, manifesting my protective instincts into the universe, I take off out the back door and into the dark night, the sound of the wind whistling through the pines and my feet crunching against the five-day-old snow the soundtrack to my mission.
I’d prefer John Williams to set the scene for me, but wind and crunching snow will have to do.
With my flashlight turned on, I light up my path toward the property line, making sure to roam the flashlight back and forth, scanning all areas. I do not want to be caught off guard or surprised.
Just to make sure, I pat the crowbar in my back pocket to make sure it’s still there and didn’t fall out. It was the only thing I could find in my dad’s toolbox that I thought could be used as a sufficient weapon. It was either a crowbar or a blowtorch, and I am not about to light up the forest in case I come across a murderer or even worse... a murderous bear. Living in Colorado, you have to be aware of such things. So I went with the crowbar, an honorable but smart choice if you ask me.
Making my way, I stick my hand that’s not holding the flashlight into my pocket to keep it warm while I crunch alongthe snow, not being quiet at all. To be honest, this isn’t a secret operative mission where I’m attempting to sneak up on someone. No, I want it to be known that I will protect and defend my property.
When I reach the tree line that separates the two parcels, I pause and look in both directions, as if crossing a road and not wanting to be run over by a rusted utility van. When the coast is clear, I take a deep breath and cross over into enemy lines. When my flashlight illuminates a building, I pause.
On a low gasp, I quickly hide behind a tree, flashlight shining up my nostrils.
A building.
The rumors were right.
Slowly, I look around the tree, this time keeping my flashlight to myself as I spot a light off in the distance that I didn’t see before because of all the large pines blocking a straight view.
“A house,” I whisper.
Pulling out my phone, I hide behind the tree and text Cole.
Max:Alert. Alert. There is a residence on the neighboring property. I repeat, there is a residence on the neighboring property.
I clutch my phone and look past the tree again to get a better view, but with all the trees, I can barely make out what kind of residence I’m dealing with.
And how did this structure just magically appear without my knowledge?
My phone buzzes in my hand with a text.
Cole:What the fuck are you doing?
Max:Investigating.
Cole:Dude, not a good idea.
Max:Don’t worry. I have a crowbar.
Cole:A crowbar? Why?
Max:To protect myself from murderers and murderous bears.
Cole:I really can’t deal with this right now. You have put me through it the last three days.
Max:You’ve been put through it? I woke up two days ago thinking my parents disappeared. Now there is a residence that popped up out of nowhere on the neighboring property that has been vacant for years, and this just after I heard voices talking in the woods. I told you something was up. And I’m going to find out exactly what’s happening.
Cole:Please, for the love of God, don’t.
Max:I can’t just sit by while my family is being robbed!
Cole:Robbed? How the fuck is your family being robbed?
