"The Start of Something New" (closed)

[HumanBean]

"The Start of Something New"

(closed)

This is a reboot of a story my writing partner
had started with a partner
who abandoned her.
We are writing it with a similar start
but a much different middle and end..
​

Robert and Craig headed out from their little cabin for the woods to check the snares and forage spring mushrooms, fiddlehead fern shoots, and more of what the woods provided. They had done this very same thing nearly every morning for more than a decade, usually but not always together. Today, though, they had barely entered the woods before Robert stopped, saying, "Crap, I forgot the wire for the new snares."

As the 40-year-old handed the bags intended to carry back their bounty, the 18-year-old said, "I got this, dad."

They parted, with Craig heading deeper into the woods. Robert didn't head back over the open ground to the cabin, though. Instead, he stood in the shadows for several minutes until he saw what he'd been expecting: a stranger rushing out of the woods on the far side of the six acres of cleared farm and ranch land, heading directly toward the outbuildings in which the stock animals lived.

Visitors to the property were a very rare event by design. After civilization as it had been known for so long collapsed, Robert and his now-deceased wife had gone to a lot of effort to hide themselves out here in the middle of the virgin forest that was part of the Everett National Monument. The property that they considered their own had originated as a mining claim in the hands of Carolyn's father, George. The claim had predated the establishment of the monument, allowing it to be grandfathered in.

After the virus, war, and collapse, the family had fled here with no intentions of ever leaving. Craig had been just 2 years old, so this was the only bit of the world that he'd ever known. Robert didn't talk about the world beyond them except to tell Craig that it was a place to which he never wanted to go.

Carolyn hadn't been quite so pessimistic about what might have happened to the outside world, and Robert had agreed that when Craig was old enough to know more, he would be told about it. When Carolyn died of pneumonia just days after her son's 5th birthday, though, Robert decided to keep the truth from him.

So far, Robert had kept the larger world away from Craig, in part by ensuring that no one from that larger world reached their little world here. Surrounding their 20 acres of open and forested land were a variety of barriers that isolated them. They included a deep ravine to the west and most of the north. To the east and south, Robert and (before her death) Carolyn had installed an 8-foot-tall heavy gauge wire fence, then encouraged the spread of thick Himalayan Blackberries on both sides by planting the invasive species. After ten years of unrestricted growth, the briar patch was now more than forty feet wide and, in places, as much as 15 feet high.

As he watched, Robert wondered where the uninvited visitor had entered the property from. Once the trespasser had enter the hen house, Robert sprinted for the same destination. He arrived near the backside of the little building, slowed to catch his breath, then pulled from his waist band the little pistol that his son hadn't realized he was carrying. He came around to the front side of the coop just as the thief emerged, carrying a little cloth bag with a shape that verified its contents: stolen eggs.

The thief stopped short, eyes wide at the sight of the pistol pointing at the space right between them from just three feet away. The thief's eyes weren't the only ones wide with surprise, though. Robert hadn't expected a beautiful young woman to be the thief in question.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Marie had come across the little farm/ranch three days earlier; she'd spent the six days before that fleeing pursuers from the little settlement in which she had been little more than an indentured servant for almost a year. During her pursuit, which had included dogs tracking her, she'd first swam down half a mile of river before entering the massive blackberry bush in the hopes that the dogs wouldn't follow.

In reality, the dogs would have traveled into and through the thorny bushes far more easily and willingly than had Marie. But unknown to her at the time, the dogs had lost her trail at the stream. Finding the fence hidden inside the briars was a curiosity; she was pretty sure that she was deep inside a National Park or Monument or something like that, which made her wonder who built it and what was located beyond it.

Marie used the big hunting knife that was one of her only resources to dig under the fence and continued westward. After a multitude of cuts and scratches from the briar's thorns, she found herself staring at heaven: a farm with food, water, and who knew what else.

And then there were the two male residents. Tired, exhausted, pained, hungry, and dehydrated, Marie had contemplated revealing herself and asking for help. But after her previous experience with men, she'd decided not to risk it.

Instead, she waited until they were working away from the outbuildings and hurried forward to raid them; she stole three eggs from the chicken coop and a handful of potatoes from a root cellar. Marie could have taken more, but she feared that the theft of more might be eventually noticed.

There was one thing she knew she needed if she was going to return to the briar patch, though. Marie crept up to back of the cabin, found a window unlatched, and pushed it open. Finding what she needed on a chair easily within reach, she leapt up into the opening, snatched the blanket, dropped back to the ground, and ran away as fast as she could.

Marie made herself at home in the briars as much as possible. She used her knife to cut away some of the vines, then used the blanket to create a makeshift shelter. Even though she knew it was a risk, Marie also built a little fire. She used the driest materials she could find to minimize the smoke and kept the flames just big enough to warm her up and dry out her clothes.

The next two days, Marie returned to the homestead. She filched a pair of eggs and again raided the root cellar but also made a visit to an angry doe with a discarded container she'd located to collect some goat milk. Upon each return, Marie wondered whether or not she should just expose herself to the two men. At night, when her fire wasn't enough to keep her from shivering through the darkness, she yearned for the heat of the fire that was sending up a steady stream of smoke from the cabin's chimney.

And then, today, the decision of whether to introduce herself to the men or not was made for Marie as she exited the coop to find herself staring into the face of one of the males. Her eyes widened, her mouth fell open, and her heart skipped a beat. She stared in shock; she'd contemplated what she would do if she was ever caught, but suddenly all of the options simply disappeared from her memory.

The only thing that came to Marie was to apologize and plea for forgiveness. "Sorry. I was ... I'm hungry. Please ... don't shoot me."

 

[HumanBean]

(OOC: Thanks for hosting my pics. That makes things much easier.)

"Sorry," the woman said as Robert steadied the pistol at her forehead. "I was ... I'm hungry. Please ... don't shoot me."

He certainly had no intention of shooting her. Robert had never shot a woman before, particularly point-blank while she was armed with little more than a bag of eggs as a weapon. He told her, "Put the eggs down, softly. That's my breakfast."

Once she'd put them down (assuming she did), Robert would tell her, "Lift your jacket and shirt. Show me you're not armed."

He couldn't know if she was carrying a weapon or not. She possessed a knife, but was she carrying it? If she disarmed without a fight, Robert would ask, "What's your name?"

And if she told him without a fuss, he'd lower the pistol, asking, "How long have you been stealing from us? And what have you stolen?"

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Marie didn't hesitate to set the cloth bag of eggs on the ground, doing so slowly and carefully so as not to startle the gun-toting property owner. The man ordered, "Lift your jacket and shirt. Show me you're not armed."

This time Marie did hesitate, saying after a moment, "I have a knife on my belt, fyi." She unzipped her coat slowly, pulling it open and lifting the hem of her blouse. Carefully, she pulled it out, held it out to her side point down, and let it fall; it sunk a couple of inches into the soil.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Marie," she said, again not hesitating. She followed up, "What's yours?"

"How long have you been stealing from us?" he asked, "And what have you stolen?"

Marie realized that she was alternating pretty evenly between hesitating and not. After a moment, she confessed, "Nine or ten eggs ... a quart maybe of goat milk ... some potatoes and onions ... oh, and a spaghetti squash."

She hesitated, wondering whether or not he'd noticed that she'd also taken some beets, carrots, and turnips, the latter of which she'd only eaten because she was hungry; turnips were not a favorite of hers. Marie considered telling him about the blanket, just for full disclosure, but she didn't want him to know that she'd entered his house, even it had only been down to her waist.

"I'm sorry ... again," she apologized. "I was desperate. Before I found you guys, I hadn't eaten real food in a week." She remembered that it wasn't just the two of them and asked, "What's the other guy's name?"

 

[HumanBean]

"What's your name?" Marie asked after she'd dropped a very impressive knife to the ground and then introduced herself.

"Robert," he told her. He relaxed the pistol's aim, letting the aim of it drop from her face toward her knees.

Marie admitted to the length of time she'd been stealing from them, as well as how much she'd taken. She didn't confess to everything, though. Honestly, Robert hadn't initially realized that someone was stealing from them because of how much food was missing. He'd actually found a boot print near the hen house that hadn't belonged to either him or his son.

Only then did he begin inventorying. The sudden drop in what had been a consistent production of eggs could have been explained away as the increasing age of the hens, of course. The same could have been said for the drop in goat milk production. But then Robert connected the window he'd found still open with the blanket that Craig hadn't been able to locate when tasked with doing so. Only then did he realize that they were begin robbed.

"I'm sorry ... again," Marie apologized. She talked about her desperation, then asked, "What's the other guy's name?"

"The other guy is my son, Craig," Robert answered. "He's checking our animal snares, but he'll be back in a couple of minutes."

That wasn't true, of course. If Craig did the full rounds of the traps, which included small game snares, crayfish traps, and fishing weirs in the creek, he'd be gone for at least an hour. And that was only if none of them required resetting and rebaiting.

Robert looked to the little cloth bag of eggs, then back to Marie. Lowering the pistol to his side, he suggested, "Why don't you gather the rest of the eggs. Then we'll go milk Mabel and Jessie. And by that time Craig should be back and we'll have some breakfast."

He smiled, asking, "You're hungry, yes?"

If Marie didn't try anything sketchy, Robert would watch over her without raising the pistol. They'd gather the eggs and milk, then head into the cabin to begin breakfast. There was smoked bacon and wild grain bread, as well as canned apples from last year's harvest.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

"The other guy is my son, Craig," Robert answered Marie's question. "He's checking our animal snares, but he'll be back in a couple of minutes."

Marie knew that wasn't true; she'd been watching the pair for three days, and she knew that they'd never gotten back from their morning chores in the forest in less than at least an hour, usually two or more. She didn't call Robert on it, though; it seemed obvious that he wanted her to think that backup was just around the corner, and as long as he felt safe, he was unlikely to point that pistol at her head again.

Robert surprised Marie by suggesting that she help him gather the rest of the eggs and milk the goats, finishing, "You're hungry, yes?"

She couldn't help but smile, both out of joy and out of relief. "Yes. Yes, I am. Thank you."

Marie went eagerly to work, gathering up the rest of the eggs before handing the bag to Robert, just in case he had any concerns that she was going to high tail it out of there at her earliest convenience. At the milking barn, she had to ask for help with properly milking the two goats; it had taken her almost 20 minutes the previous day to fill a container with two cups of the warm drink.

Entering the cabin through a door, as opposed to a window, was different. She stopped barely inside to look about herself before saying, "It's cute. I'm kind of surprised actually. It has the feel of a woman's touch, but I--"

She stopped as she realized that speaking about Robert's missing wife might be a sore topic. Marie couldn't know whether the woman had died shortly after the end of the world, something about which Robert likely had gotten over, or just recently, making it something heartbreaking not just for him but for his son, too.

"Anyway, I like it," she finished that topic off, hoping she hadn't brought up bad memories. "Can I cook for you and ... Craig, right? I'm a good cook, really?" She waggled her fingers toward the bag, demanding, "Gimme those. I can cook a mean omelet if you have something to put in it ... cheese, onions, peppers ... whatever."

She was thrilled to learn that there was smoked bacon and bread, too. It was springtime, of course, and she hadn't seen a field of winter wheat, so she asked about where he got the grain from which he made flour for the bread. She was impressed, telling him as she pointed a finger off into space as if indicating a distant place, "I've lived my life out there, and there are very few places growing wheat or corn or rye or anything else. The problem is that just about the time you finish your harvest, some militia comes marching in to steal most of it. Or if they don't steal it, they just tax you for half of it, calling it protection.

"And canned apples, too?" she remarked when Robert brought out a mason jar full of them. "I'm seriously impressed. I never learned how to can or pressure cook food. My grandmother did it, though. She used to fill a huge pantry with everything from green beans to pickles to pears to ... whatever!"

Marie shooed Robert away from the stove every time he tried to get involved any farther than giving her ingredients or pointing out where they were kept. She was pulling things off the wood stove and putting them on the warming burners to await the young man's return when Craig entered right on time.

 

[HumanBean]

Robert got a laugh out of watching Marie try to milk the two goats. First, she really had no idea what she was doing. He was surprised that she'd gotten any milk out of Mabel or Jessie the first time she tried.

Second, of course, the two old does were mean little bitches. They could sense that she didn't know what she was doing, and they kicked and danced about in an effort to hamper her efforts. Robert and Craig didn't have to secure the does with ankle hobbles or the neck restraints anymore. Today, though, they were put into use less the job never get finished.

"It's cute," Marie said about the cabin when they strolled inside.

"Thanks," Robert said, unsure of whether her compliment had been sincere or not. "It's not much, but it's home."

The cabin was a simple two room structure, but it served the two men well. The first room was the kitchen, dining room, and sitting room all in one. The second room, found beyond a drapery which, at the moment, was open, was the bedroom and the bathroom.

Bathroom didn't mean toilet room. Out the back door about 60 feet was an outhouse. The bathroom in the house was just a bathtub and sink that could be hidden away by another drapery hanging from a rail that could be pulled in place when needed.

The home was heated by two sources. In the kitchen portion of the first room was a wood stove that included bread ovens, warming bins up high, and water heating copper pipes that served a hot water heater standing on an adjacent pedestal. Robert explained, "It'll keep 12 gallons of water hot enough for a couple of baths."

The second space heater were the fireplaces. Rather than being found on an outer wall, this one was in the middle of the wall that separated the cabin's two rooms such that in each room there was a small fireplace that sent its smoke up the same chimney.

In all, the cabin offered about 300 square feet, which was about the size of a nice suburban home's master bedroom. But it was more than Robert and Craig needed. Of course, it was very cramped, what with the array of resources crated, boxed, bagged, hanging, or lying loose about the place.

When Robert and Carolyn had first fled to the woods as the world was collapsing, they'd brought several pickup truck bed loads of stuff with them to ensure they had all they would need for years to come. Much of the stuff, like the spinning wheel and loom, had never been used and only sat in the corners collecting dust. But they had been treasured family heirloom's of Carolyn's, and Robert simply hadn't been able to toss them out to make room.

"I'm kind of surprised actually," Marie continued as she scanned the cabin's interior. "It has the feel of a woman's touch, but I--"

Robert knew where Marie had been going with her statement before she caught herself. Looking to her, he caught her embarrassed expression. He relieved her guilt by saying, "My wife played the biggest hand in making it homey. Carolyn died a few years after we came out here. It's okay. I can talk about it."

Relieved, Marie went on, "Anyway, I like it. "

She headed for the kitchen, asking, "Can I cook for you and ... Craig, right? I'm a good cook, really?"

Marie offered to make them omelets, asking what ingredients Robert might have. He provided her with onions, peppers, wild mushrooms, herbs -- explaining which ones dated back a decade and which had been foraged from the forest last fall -- and, to provide her with the necessary grease, some smoked bacon.

He explained that the bread was made of seeds both grown on the farmland and foraged from the forest. "We had wheat our first two years here, but some sort of blight ruined the crop. Every time he rose from his chair to help in some way, Marie pointed him right back to it, demanding that he give her the pleasure of repaying him and Craig for her trespasses.

She talked about how rough life out in the world had been, speaking of how harvests were often stolen by militias. "I'm surprised that we managed to avoid all that, at least in the beginning. There was nothing to the west and south to protect us from the outside world.

"The only reason we'd remained hidden was the death toll of the apocalypse," Robert explained. "I mean, what, 90-plus percent of the country's population had died in those first 4 years? Within a couple of years, the blackberries had spread so thick that you'd never know we were here.

"Speaking of which," Robert asked, "how the hell did you find us?"

Marie didn't get a chance to answer, though, as Craig suddenly burst through the door. He held three rabbit and two squirrel carcasses up before him by the legs bound together by a leather thong, saying proudly, "Dad! Check this out--!"

He went instantly quiet at the sight of Marie, his eyes widening while his mouth and the dead animals fell open or down, respectively. He just stared in shock. He hadn't seen a person not of his family since he was five or six years old. And he hadn't seen a female person since the death of him mother.

Robert stood and walked over to his son as he explained, "Craig, this is Marie. Marie, Craig, my son."

He paused a moment to see if they wanted to exchange pleasantries. Craig might have wanted to, but he was in such shock that his brain couldn't form the words. Robert continued, "Craig, Marie happened upon our place this morning while you were out checking the snares, and I invited her to have a meal with us."

Prodding his son in the side with an elbow, Robert said, "Be polite and say hello."

The teen managed a weak, meek, "Hello."

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Marie didn't enter the bedroom during her walk about he first, front room, but saw through the open portal that there was only one bed in it. As her tour continued, she noted a mattress behind an old couch and presumed that that was the boy's bed, to be laid out on the floor when night came.

Robert explained about the hot water tank, causing Marie to moan with a noticeable yearning; she'd noted the bathtub in the other room and now said with great want, "Oh, a bath. How I've long for one for such a long time. Maybe if you like the breakfast well enough, I might be able to talk you into letting me soak in there for an hour or two or ten?"

She also took note of the disassembled spinning wheel and loom. Despite it being the middle of the 21st century in America, Marie knew full well how to use both items; she'd had a mother and two grandmothers who'd been skilled in the fiber arts, and she'd grown up knowing not just how to make thread and yarn but how to use them in crocheting, knitting, tatting, and more.

When Robert spoke of his wife, Marie could see in his expression and hear in his voice how greatly he missed her, despite saying, "It's okay. I can talk about it."

When he spoke of the apocalypse, a chill ran up Marie's spine and flooded her arms with goose bumps. Most of her memories of the post-collapse world had been bad ones; including seeing most of her family killed by the virus or the hardships that followed -- starvation, disease, etc. -- and the rest of them killed by militia, raiders, and just generally bad people.

Robert suddenly asked a question that must have been on his mind for a while, "How the hell did you find us?"

She was about to answer when the door flew open, startling her enough that she grabbed for the butcher knife that she'd been keeping close in case Robert turned out to be just another polite rapist. Craig entered, proudly exhibiting his prizes before suddenly going quiet at the sight of Marie. She did her best to contain her smile as his shock at unexpectedly finding a beautiful young woman in his home overwhelmed him.

"Craig, this is Marie," Robert told the younger male. "Marie, Craig, my son."

She casually returned the big knife to the countertop, then stepped forward and offered out her hand, saying, "Hi, Craig. Nice to meet you."

Craig didn't move a muscle, his shock freezing him statue-like. Robert spoke of how Marie was there for a meal, adding, "Be polite and say hello."

"Hello," the teen managed finally, barely getting the word out. He took Marie's hand for a weak shake; it was trembling.

"Hello again, Craig," Marie repeated, stifling the desire to giggle. "Your father has been showing me around the house. You have a great place here. I bet you help a lot."

If Craig was able to speak, Marie would respond politely, but her main concern was that breakfast was ready and was either going to get cold or burn, depending upon the item. She gestured them both to their seats, filled plates for each of them, and set them before them. She poured them cold milk from a box cooled by spring water; the warm milk went into the box for the evening meal Robert had explained.

Finally, she took a seat at the table that put her between the two of them, asking with interest, "So, Craig, how old are you? Your father didn't say."

 

[HumanBean]

Robert couldn't help but suffer a twitch in his crotch when Marie began talking about taking a long, hot bath. It had been a long time since he'd seen a woman naked. Not that he expected to actually see Marie naked, of course. But simply knowing that she would be in his bedroom undressed made him happy that he was sitting down where his sudden erection wasn't noticeable.

"You can take a bath simply for cooking breakfast, Marie," Robert said with a soft laugh. He thought about his wife bathing, then getting out, dressing before his eyes. It made Robert think a moment, leading him to offer, "My wife's clothes are still in her side of the closet. She was about your size, I think. Look's close enough, I mean. If you wanted to pick something out, you'd be welcome to it."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
​

Craig's arrival and subsequent shock at seeing Marie wasn't noticed only by the latter. Robert had been expecting the teen to faint away at the sight of her actually. They all sat to breakfast, with Marie asking right off the bat, "So, Craig, how old are you? Your father didn't say."

The teen's mouth was full of food, and he did his best to chew it up and swallow hard before finally getting out, "I'm 18. Turned 18 the First of January."

"Not likely to forget Craig's birthday," Robert said, laughing. He added, "Not a lot of children born on January 1st, I suppose. A lot of children conceived that night, though, I'd guess."

He laughed at his crude humor, and while Marie seemed to understand and appreciate the fact, Craig only looked confused by it.

Robert hadn't spent a great deal of time explaining the birds and the bees to his son for obvious reasons, the first being that the odds of Craig seeing a woman, let alone having an opportunity to fuck one, was very low. Or, it had been, until today. He realized that he was going to have to have the talk with him now, though, because Craig was going to have some very interesting questions later after breakfast.

Ironically, Craig's best knowledge of sex had been when he'd spied upon Robert and Carolyn fucking out in the woods one evening when they thought their son was stacking the firewood the two men had chopped earlier in the day. After learning that his son had come upon them, Robert had questioned Craig about how long he'd been watching them. The boy hadn't had an accurate answer, but that time had included both Robert's orgasm and, several minutes later, Carolyn's as well.

It was decided that the parents should explain to Craig together what he'd seen in the simplest, least graphic terms, phrasing it as an act of love between two adults who loved one another. He was also told that it was a private act upon which he really shouldn't be spying.

Craig had told them that he understood both aspects, and Robert and Carolyn had thought that that was that. They didn't know that on at least four more occasions, Craig had secretly watched them from this hiding place or that, desperate to understand what was happening better.

When he began masturbating (long after his mother's untimely death), Craig had had to speak with his father about sex once again. Robert told him that touching oneself was totally natural and nothing to be ashamed about. Robert again stressed the privacy angle, telling Craig that if he wanted to masturbate, he should do so outside of the house when he was alone and done with his chores.

The talk seemed to have settled the issue. Until now.

When they finished with breakfast, Robert told Craig, "Why don't you get the dishes, son. I want to talk to Marie outside." Looking to her their guest, he asked, "Is that okay with you?"

Outside, Robert began talking about the work that the pair of them put into farming, ranching, foraging, and more. "It's a lot of effort. Sometimes it takes up the entire day. Sometimes we're done in a couple of hours and get to goof off the rest of the day."

He looked back to the house, finding Craig leaning forward over the sink to get a better view of the two people outside. "It's been hard raising Craig on my own. His mother's been gone a while, several years. I've done my best with him, and I think I did okay."

He looked to Marie with a sincere expression and tone, saying, "You seem like a nice person. Are you a nice person? If I offered you a place here, offered you to make this your home, would I be inviting trouble, either from you or someone else out there who might be looking for you?"

Even though Marie hadn't said anything about her past, Robert had a feeling that there might be at least one person out there in the world who would like to know where Marie was and possibly want her back. He was correct, of course, not that he could know that.

"It's not an easy life," he continued. "Spring's here, so we're getting ready to plant. We'll be out here from sunrise to sunset, preparing the land, putting down the seed, pumping irrigation. Summer means weeding, pruning, trellising. Fall's harvest, obviously, and cleaning up the ground for the next year.

"And then there's the animals," he went on, looking toward the ducks, chickens, goats, and pigs who had free run of certain parts of the property where they wouldn't do any damage. "They have to be fed, milked, slaughtered, cared for in other ways. But without them, we'd starve to death. Not enough mushrooms and fiddlehead ferns on our side of the fence to feed us."