Chapter 1

I will call myself Maria. I can't use my real name here, for reasons which should become apparent soon. Back in the '90s, my life was good. Sure, there were rumblings about bad times ahead and things weren't exactly perfect, they never are. Still, I was quite happy. I was with a wonderful man who had a very good job. We had money and owned a home in a big city. I was very fortunate to have been born into a time and place that allowed me to get a university degree, so I also had a high-paying job in an organization where not many other women had the same benefit. This made it possible for the two of us to fine dine and travel the world. But then, after 15 years together, he was diagnosed with an incurable cancer and passed away nine months later.

That is when I started to become aware of how scary our neighborhood had become. During the day it was fine; all the neighbors knew each other. We were all friends. But at night there were always sirens, sometimes gun shots. I would get up in the middle of the night and look out to see cars I'd never seen before. There were people I didn't know, walking the streets. As a woman alone I began to be very uncomfortable living in this scenario, so I decided I needed to move.

I had always wanted to live in that beautiful country to the north of me. Oh, land of the free, equal rights for all, how wonderful it must be to live in such a place.

 

Over the years I had become an active member of a fun, liberal, online forum where people from all over would discuss what was going on in politics, science, and religion, among other things. They always seemed so wise and well-read. I made many friends there and one in particular was very attentive to me. Like me, Chuck was a total pacifist who cherished all God's creatures. He loved the outdoors and being able to walk around naked in the wilderness, which he was often able to do because he lived in that aforementioned country. I agreed that I would like to be able to do the same. He always made me laugh. Then, when I was dealing with my husband dying, he respectfully stayed away.

About a year later, though, Chuck sent me an e-mail asking how I was doing. I told him all about what I was going through with settling the estate, planning to sell the house, and getting rid of most of my personal belongings so it would be easier to relocate. Since Chuck lived close to the border he suggested I come for a little weekend vacation, get away from my problems for a few days. What a wonderful idea! So I bought a plane ticket.

I was so thrilled to be going there, getting away from the city for a bit. After landing in a huge airport and getting through customs, I then found myself on a 20-seater airplane headed for a small airport in Northview. It was my first time in a small plane and I am quite sure there are still finger indentations in the armrest where I was hanging on for dear life while reciting what I could recall of the Rosary. But after the turbulent flight, we arrived quite safely. Only Chuck wasn't there.

  

I told myself not to panic, it was probably just a traffic problem somewhere. But after half an hour I did start to freak out because the little airport was now almost deserted. The car rental desk had closed down until the following day. The cafe was being cleaned, chairs placed upside down on the table tops. I started looking around for a pay phone to call a cab.

I finally spotted a phone booth outside. As I went out the door I noticed a truck pulling into the parking lot. It looked like the truck he had described to me and I thought, "Thank God!" I went towards it and saw this guy get out and comb his long, silvery hair into a ponytail. I swear, I got weak in the knees. This was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen in my life. In a sleeveless shirt and cut-offs, his tanned, muscular body glistened in the sun. He had smiling, hazel eyes. "Chuck?"

He seemed surprised to see me and said he expected to find me inside. I mentioned that the inside seemed to be closing down now since the plane had landed about 45 minutes ago. His reply, "Oh. Is it that late? I got stuck in traffic on the freeway. I don't wear a watch."

That seemed good enough to me so I threw my bag into the truck and away we went. It was just before noon so we drove around for several hours and he showed me the sights and talked, and talked, and talked. At one point he apologized and told me he was a bit of a chatterbox. I told him I didn't mind at all. He was charming and funny and I was totally enjoying myself for the first time in a long time.

One of the things he talked about was how he wanted to move out into the woods and live off-grid. He was 55 then and was expecting a pension later and he was sure this was something he could do. He had lots of construction experience and had been studying all about solar power. He said he thought that the world was about to go to hell and the only way to survive was to get as far away from civilization as possible. I couldn't help but agree with him.

I suggested he move to my country; it was cheaper to live there. He told me how much he'd really love to but he couldn't. There were some things on his permanent record that wouldn't allow him out of the country. That caused me some concern, but he explained, "I got caught shoplifting once. And I have a DUI that involved a pretty nasty accident. I almost died. So I just have to stay where I am." Since I have no similar experiences in my background, I figured he was speaking the truth.

We finally reached the motel where I had made reservations and I put my things away. He had recommended this motel as it was right on a lake. The view was really beautiful. The rooms were individual little cabins with a living room and bedroom. I had noticed there was a Mexican restaurant a block away and I was starting to feel very hungry at this point. So I suggested we go get something to eat.

He replied that he should just go home as he had no money. He had lost his job a few weeks ago but he didn't tell me about it before because he just wanted me to have a good time. I told him I would have a good time if he would join me for a meal and I was happy to pay for it. So off we went. We walked.

At the restaurant I suggested we have margaritas. He said, "No, I have to drive home and I never drink and drive now."

"Oh, good for you! Look, here's an idea. We'll have some drinks and food and walk back to the motel. Then you can sleep on the couch, which I was told folds out into a bed. In the morning I'll buy you breakfast and we'll have one more nice day together before I have to go back tomorrow evening."

So, that's what we did. After supper we opened up the couch bed and he fell into it and fast asleep. I went to my bed. I awoke in the middle of the night and looked in on him. He was softly snoring to the light of the TV, so I went in and sat down in a chair by the bed and looked at him. What a beautiful man he was. How did he fit into my future? I just sat and watched him for about 20 minutes. Then I went back to my room.

The next day we spent most of the time just hanging around by the lake, talking, until it was time for me to go. He told me all about his past. He had been married, long ago. He'd owned his own business, automotive repair, and had been working hard to save up enough money so they could buy a house. This meant he was at work most of the time and one day, out of the blue, his wife said she wanted a divorce. She had met someone else.

Chuck was devastated. On the day he signed the divorce papers he threw a few belongings into his car and went to California. He hung around the southern beaches and had quite the wild time for several years. He eventually grew tired of it and moved back to Northview, where he had lived long ago, and was now trying to start over. He had lost his business and all his tools to the ex, so he was really starting over from scratch. But he was determined to get back into his previous financial position so he could buy property out in the woods.

Although he talked like he was one of those “survivalist” types, he was quick to point out that he would never resort to buying guns. Guns only brought trouble, he said. Plus, he had no interest in hunting because he was not capable of harming a flea. Well, a fly maybe. Or a mosquito, but nothing else, no way. I told him about a boyfriend I had once, long ago, who always claimed he was a pacifist and hated guns. One day I thought I'd be nice and tidy up his apartment before he got home from work. I found two guns in the back of his closet, and a stash of porn. That was the end of that relationship.

When we got back to the airport, Chuck didn't want to come in with me so he dropped me off at the entrance. We talked in the truck for a bit and he gave me phone numbers of his parents and others who I should call if I had any trouble at the border. And then he kissed me, softly, gently, on the lips. Then he did it again. Ohhhhhh.

Chapter 2

Back to the grind, then. This was the time instant messaging was becoming popular and we found ourselves chatting constantly, sometimes for hours on end. One day I received an urgent message from him. He told me he was about to be evicted from his apartment. They had raised his rent a few months prior and he wasn't able to pay it now on his unemployment benefits. He hadn't paid for three months and he knew the sheriff was coming for him. He had to throw what he could into his truck and take off. So, goodbye for now. He would be in touch whenever it was possible. It was six months before I heard from him again.

His message:

            You're my first!

I finally got my internet back and you are the first person I'm writing to. I got out of town and went north about 60 miles to the smaller town of Whispering Springs, up in the mountains where I lived once long ago and still have lots of friends. I am living as the caretaker on a great property out in the woods.

The owner, Bill, is only here in the summers. He has a really nice little log cabin and he needed someone to help out with the property, 80 acres, and keep an eye on it while he's away. This is great! I had a phone line put in and ran my own line from the electric pole. I give Bill $150 a month to pay for the electricity. There is a fresh water spring nearby and a river to fish in.

I managed to find a camper for the back of my truck and a 13 foot travel trailer and I have set them up with an enclosed space in between where I have put in a wood stove. One of my walls is all thermo pane glass that I found at the dump so I can just sit by my fire and stare out into the woods. I ran hoses from the spring so I have running water inside and I have a really great outhouse set up outside. I think you would approve.

 

I told him I had found a buyer for my house, was about to quit my job, and in about five months time I would be moving north to a border town and staying with a cousin. I had sold off everything except some clothes, linens, dishes, tools, small furniture, and the music, books and art that were most important to me. He told me how much he loved music and books and it was good that I kept those.

We went back to connecting every day, talking about this and that. He started sending me pictures of his place there in Whispering Springs. It was so beautiful, so many trees. He would also send pictures of meals he had made. One of his favorites was eggs on toast with tomato, onions, and cheese. He was even growing his own tomatoes and onions. What a great life.

Five months later came the day he sent the message that would change my life. 

 

Chapter 3

Hi, Maria. I just found out that the property across the road from me here is for sale. It's 30 acres with an old house on it. It has its own well and septic, and already has electric and phone lines on it. There's also a creek and I think there's a spring somewhere. This is absolutely a place you could go naked all the time and not worry about being seen.

You never really told me how much money you have but I think this might be a place you could afford. Do you want me to get more information on it?

Now, I had most assuredly told him how much money I had, and how much I was getting for the house I was selling. But, I decided he must have just forgotten, him being so busy and all. Clearly how much money I had was not an issue for him. He likes me for who I am; we have so much in common.

I asked him to please make an appointment with the realtor, look at the house and report back to me. I would pay him for his time. He did this and sent back a very meticulous Excel spreadsheet describing everything. He'd obviously spent hours working on this. There was a large barn and storage shed on the property. The house had a lot of problems due to its age, but I already knew, deep inside, that I would probably go for it. I have fixed up old houses before.

Things were getting worse in the world; I had read about upcoming water wars and really wanted to have my own source. I was truly in self-survival mode at this point. Sometimes it was like I could hear this message coming from somewhere far away: GET OUT NOW, spooky voice and all.

At the end of September I once again flew up to Northview. This time I had a rental car arranged and drove to the small town of Whispering Springs. I went to Chuck's new place, which was about 3 miles away from town, and I spent a few hours there admiring all of his accomplishments. I felt so at peace there. He really had put together a warm, comfortable place for “nothing.” I was quite impressed. Bill had already departed for the winter so I didn't get to meet him. Then I went to look at the property with the realtor.

The house was old and funky but had a certain charm to it. Built in 1935, it was two levels with 3 tiny rooms and the bathroom upstairs. Downstairs was a large kitchen, a dining room and a small living room. The windows and wiring looked to be originals from '35. There were no appliances. The property, though, oh my, so beautiful.

There were a few scattered houses across the road, but all around the property was protected forest land. There were acres and acres of trees. Every window in the house had a beautiful view. It was so wonderfully quiet, mostly all you could hear were birds singing. The air smelled of pine. I made a low offer on the asking price.

We picked up some food and went to the local motel where I had reservations, a long row of units that looked out onto a lake. I had also bought us some beer, our favorite drink, to mellow out with, and mellow out we did. We discussed the house at length. I was concerned about the rope wiring which was exposed in many areas. He said it would be easy enough to fix, just open a wall here and there.

I would probably want to open some of the walls anyway, to free up some space which was pretty tight. The wall by the stairway should be taken out to allow more light into the kitchen. Actually the whole stairway should be replaced as the steps were steep and narrow, definitely not up to current code.

It would be great to put a cistern in the basement and capture rain water. Of course solar panels would be a necessity. He explained what I should look for as far as size and price. There were so many plans to be made, so much to be done; I was deliriously happy.

Later, we were sitting on the couch, feet on the coffee table, door open, staring out at the lake. Suddenly he jumped up and ran towards the door and stomped something. I asked, “Cockroach?”

“No, a damn cricket.”

I said, “Why would you kill a cricket? Crickets don't hurt anything. Some people even consider them to be good luck. You could have just kicked him out the door.”

“A cricket in here would drive us crazy, chirping all night. We'd never get any sleep.”

I said, “Ah, our first argument. How will it end?”

“It ends by me going to bed.”

“Okay, I'm going to take a bath. It's been kind of a long, stressful day for me.”

“Enjoy yourself. I'll take a shower in the morning.”

I had a nice soak with some bath oil, candles, music, a beer. Then, sweet sleep. I woke up later in the night to find him tossing and turning, seeming anguished. I wondered, 'What demons haunt this poor man?”

  

The next morning I called the realtor to be told my offer had been accepted! So we had a very busy day, signing papers, opening a bank account, transferring funds. Before I left that night I asked Chuck to be my property manager, until I could return, and he accepted. Everything that day was so easy. All signs told me I was doing the right thing. What could possibly go wrong now? Nothing.