"Put it on ice?"

   "Like it's a lightswitch." 

  "But 

  "But I'm in love 

  "With him?" 

  "Who else? 'Fess up." 

  Slowly but surely eight girls revealed nine-tenths of "their problem."

  Robert Rhonda stsred at his toes in flip flops from a bag of stuff someone had left on the hood of his car.  "I really can't remember if I am." 

  "I hope so." 

  "This sucks." 

  The fan blowing over lunchbox ice packs wasn't making more air. 

  "I gotta go to work." 

  "We took those promise vows at Church." 

  "Mine chose to go back to Israel." 

  "One of mine is headed to training first." 

  "Hers 

  "You don't have to speak for me 

  "Was mine." 

  "Seriously?!  And we wonder why we get called

  "HEY!

  "What? 

  "Let's not fight." 

  Out of the sounds of crayons and markers coloring the conversations started and stopped.

  

  One pressed a broken and muddy--under finger nail into the other's arm.  "See!  Stays tan." 

  I smacked her hand away before she could press on my sunburn. She put her thumbs in her tank top straps like it was her overalls.  "Still mad?" 

  Pursed lips and squinting eye. 

  The other one just stood thete.

  "Try that thing where you start with a question 'steada runnin' away." 

  "How in the world or hell does somebody run over yonder to the creek and wind up missing for four months?"

  The other one crossed her arms. 

  The cardboard door swung outward.  'i DID IT! I, OH, hello, finished a paragraph." 

  "Who"s that?" 

  "This is uh, Robert." 

  "Glaf you ask.  That was why I couldn't finish my piece." 

  Both girls plucked tall grass and stuck it in there mouths.  "We quit smoking." 

  'See, my friend here helped me get out of Knoxville and create a, what do you call it?" 

  "A Jesus bubble.  Personal space." 

  "Right, enough of that to overcome my amnesia.' 

  "You had amnesia?" 

  "Did you?" 

  "It was due to stress.  I think it happens so I won't snap.  Although," all five dogs came out of the porch area and peed everywhere, "Some claim I did snap by walking away."  The girls took the grass out of their mouths. 

  "I literally got hit in the head with a house." 

  "Lying?" 

  "I was too angry to be a therapist anymore, but not physically fit enough to stay in the services, so I," 

  "A whole house?" 

  "Like half, disintegrating, as we got the rafting company to North Carolina." 

  "Did the news ever decide if the dam broke or"

  "The news doesn't decide that or anything else." 

  "So I was convinced that I was Rhonda.  I was like who the hell is Robert?!' 

"This is your mother"

   We were in the barn having a musical argument that entailed almost yelling the lyrics, 

  Don:t rock the jukebox

  PLAY ME A COUNTRY SONG 

  PLAY ME THE ROLLING STONES 

  When I was summoned to the landline.  "This is your mother." 

  "What's wrong?" 

  "Why does something have to be wrong?" 

  "Nothing's wrong."

  "For once."

  "Is something wrong?" 

  "Well a lot of things about the world are wrong Mom, but I'm alright."

  "How about you?"

  "Mostly okay.  There's black mold at work." 

  "Eeewwww.  What's that?" 

  "Worse than mildew."

  "Oh.  Don't let it get on you." 

  "Shelby and I are working up front.  But the boss can't afford to fix it.  And," eating a Snickers, "So Shelby put every crate in the place in the doorway." 

  "Probably a fire hazard." 

  "Better than black mold.  Bad for breathing." 

  "Oh." 

  "That's not why I'm calling."

  "Oh?"

  "What is it?"

  "Your Dad is down about something." 

  "What's wrong?"

  "He thinks, well, he feels like you might love Everybody's Dad more than you love him."

  "What?!  That's out there."

  Chewing.  "Not even possible." 

  "Let me talk to him." 

  "He's sleeping." 

  "But it's like dinner time." 

  "The boys wore him out." 

  "Sports?" 

  "No.  You're funny.  Everyone was stressing about tariffs and stocks." 

  "Here too.  But, just don't spend and well, I can tell you that retailers did like pre-planning." 

  "Even for the holidays?" 

  "Especially for that.  Watch on the TV.  The media is keeping up with the non-chaos part of everything too." 

  She'd brought the phone up to Dad.  "Here's Daddy." 

  "I'm awake." 

  "Hey Dad.  It's Lara." 

  "How's things?" 

  "Okay I guess for a bunch of random people trying to make the best of nothing."

  "Sounds like fun wherever you are." 

  "It's okay.  Mom had told me not to wtite about our family, so, I'm learning some different family stuff.  But you guys are still the best family." 

  "Ok." 

  "He smiled!"

  "I love you guys the most!" 

  "He smiled bigger." 

  "And really soon I'll be traveling again and writing about other stuff." 

  "That's the good news," Everybody's Dad poured the last of the coffee into his cup and turned off the pot. 

  "Where too?" 

  "Back into the flood zone." 

  "Well be careful." 

  "Of course."

  "And, Dad!" 

  "Spaghetti and meatballs?"

  "Yeah?!" 

  "I love you the most." 

  "I love you too." 

  "K I T" 

  "Will do."

  Of course I started crying in hanging up so got an Everybody's Dad hug that worked its way out the door before too dark to see or the old bat croaks he winked at his mother, and the hug merged into a unicorn and bigfoot and mama hug happy that we'll all keep working on it.

  The footage from various video cameras kept coming in. 

  "Note says: This proves it."

  "I think the lingering political stuff kind of got swept into the same rubbish pile as real grievances," the insurance adjuster off the clock said softly. 

  "None of it's garbage," said the start-up recycling group over for beans without taco shells. 

  "I blame it on...." Another round.

   We wouldn't have believed that "trade wars" could rip apart social structure the same way as "hot war" but it kept rearing it's head in precious moments.

"Liberation Day" because

   it's been long enough that it's all been a tangled mangled mess of paperpushing, stat zapping, and left of center on true reading of where we're at.

  Next

   "Well, compared to...." 

  "The speaker had some good points." 

  "Does seem kind of true." 

  "And not really conspiracy theory." 

  "Brain computing."

  There was plenty to think about.  But out of thin air, not a lot of connection between competition and communism.  We trapsed through mud and tarps to bookshelves. 

  "That's what I'm talking about." 

  "The perfect haven." 

  "Did you bring the coffee?"

  "Where's the list of stuff to ask about?"

  "Remember, it's volunteer work." 

  "No pay?  I'm leavin'."

  "He's just being funny." 

  "Can I just live here?  I don't ever want to leave." 

  "Is that sarcasm?"

  "Nope." 

  Remember the mudbath had become something tossed between us like a trophy we'd won.  In that part of the yard that had collapsed because of a garbage retaining wall, we'd let go.  Fortunately for our feelings we'd already let loose.  Totally different with God involved. 

  We'd purposefully not eaten the same things we'd been eating for six months.  And we remembered stuff.  Like, I used to have a personality, and, that old goat that lived where we used to. 

  "Let the mud pull all the toxicity away." 

  "Fuck you.  That's part of my personality." 

  "Fuck you then for asking me to marry you." 

  Laughs

  "Oh hey new neighbor.  What are you doing here?""

  A sigh and an almost cry, then lips screwed into resolution.  "Well, I'd say it has to do with being a Jew but that leaves the field wide open for hmmmm I dunno the something stinks and sinister going on somehow being connected to the Jewish PEOPLE." 

  "Did you know they don't call each other Hebrews?" 

  "Really?' 

  'Who's there Martha?" 

  None of us knew what they were saying.  'Did you just call us dumb goyas?" 

  "No m"am.  That was a Hebtew quote about strangers being welcomed as friends

   "Until they prove otherwise

  "Which; they do often do.". 

  In the mudbath we'd taken turns at one point not getting out until resolution.  One day it had led to a heated debate about forgiveness.  We got deep on the topic of debt.  Then the unicorn, holding up her broken bikini top, came over sternly saying, Oh my God, Oh my God.

  "What is it?". Everybody's Dad sat up and mud slide down his chest.  He tried to catch it and patch it back into place.  "She just coated me." 

  "Not like there's a shortage." 

  'I need you." 

  "Well, that's better than I hate you.  It's a start." 

  "No, I really need you." 

  A paint stick stirred a pat of dried mudcake.  'Sure you do.  Like you ever need anybody." 

  "Knock it off." A pitcher of water was thrown in that direction.

  "What is it baby girl?"

  "Um.  Bigfoot is asleep.  But.  He's covered in wasps." 

  People jumped up in the mudpit.  The unicorn pushed people back.  "We shouldn't wake him up!' 

  Clumps of mud being brushed off splatted. 

  "He"ll panic." 

  "Bigfoot panic?  Never." 

  "She's right.  You don't know my son." 

  Everybody's dad sank into sitting on the muddybank.  His wife to be looked at him to gauge how he'd taken that.  Then her eyes grew wide and she pointed.  "Look at the holes!" 

  "In my bathing suit?" He crossed his legs quickly and his arms over those.  "No honey.  In the mud."

"This is NOT A COMMUNE!!!!"

   "Now, get yer crap and leave the Good Book."

  "But, but

  "No.  No.

  "But

  "But NO.  NO MORE BUTS."

  "SLAM IT AGAIN PARDNER AND I'LL KILL YOU"

  "Third time this week I been called out this way to re-glaze that pane of glass." 

  The steam from the thermos'd coffee made one of the men sniff the air harder.  That made him sneeze. 

  "No real

  "At least we switched out the replacement with what's that stuff called?

  A snarl.  "PANES OF glass left." 

  

  "What are you so angry 'bout honey?"

  "Don'tchoo honey me bitch."

  "Girls.  You gonna take a shower son?" 

  "Has everyone gone crazy again?" 

  A soft bass laugh.  "Not everyone no.  Just the people who didn't get any bacon out the pound." 

  "Okay.  Water still rust-colored?"

  "Well, dear, I take it back."

  "All of it?"

  "No m'am just the part about wishing I'd had girls instead of boys or could've been a good Dad if I'd only had girls

  "Don't call me m'am Mr. It makes me feel old."

  "Are you old enough?" He gasped and covered his mouth with a giant hand.  She slapped at him.  He pulled her halter top down. 

  "Told ya.  Their ain't a mature person in this whole fucking county."

  "It's a shame you think so.  Hand me that 2x4 and let's get this going.  It'll go great until people get sto

  He put his hand over her mouth.  "It is that season.  Before they slave us into summering the summering."

  "Must be awful." 

  "You'll see!  No bed of roses around here any season, but just after graduation, whew, there's a stampede of coming and going.  We never really stand a chance of getting ahead." 

  "One job at a time.  Or you'll get like those younger people with ten jobs each and what did the young gentleman call it?" 

  The man sat up spry.  "A young gentleman?  Up here?" 

  "Overtaxed?! Like too much on one plate.  Oversomething.  Lemme think." She put the hankie back up to her face and breathed through the stuffy nose.  "OVEREXTENDED," she yelled.

  "No need to yell.  I can hear you." 

  Someone sittin' sketching on the lawn square that wasn't mud got up and went inside.  Couples inside the house pointed at the two couples outside the house.  "That one can hear again already," the sketcher said.  The man finishing his coffee tossed the cup towards the window so that it would fall short of hitting the window.  Then he put hands in his ears, wiggled all his fingers, and stuck his tongue out.

  "Maybe everyone has gone crazy again," the guy in the bathrobe said.

  From inside the barn came a note: SUBJECTS THROWING WET DOG TOYS AT EACH OTHER

  "Look out, I'm going in." 

  She'd crumpled the note into a paper grenade and threw it at the notewriter.  "Give it up already.  You're not a social worker anymore.  And I'm not a nurse.  And YOU," she turned towards a mud and water splat covered girl, "You're NOT Uncle Tito, you need to come out of the closet or whatever this is."  She looked at the racks of laundered clothing and carefully stacked piles of stuff--islands in the flooded area.  "What the hell is this?" 

  The unicorn crossed her arms and stomped a foot.  "It's NOT hell.  Fact, it's a fucking paradise compared to the "real" world."

  "Everybody's Dad" appeared in the cardboarded door.  "Holy shit.  Wipes?"

  Anybody coming or going with a shopping bag had told him it was wipes. 

  A guy working on the back porch said, "Looks like he's got a whole harem in there." 

  The bone-tired man turned and looked at the heckler.  "Shut up or I'll shoot you." The people outside the barn grabbed tools and pieces of the project and moved further back.  He went inside and closed the cardboarded door.  "We need to talk.  All of us need to talk."

  "We're TOO BUSY." 

  "HIDING AWAY?"

  "PREPARING FOR THE LOCUSTS.  GO AWAY. Please."

  He went out and pulled the cardboarded door shut.  "Good news guys.  The shrews are almost tamed." The unicorn threw a soaking wet dog stuffy at the cardboarded door so hard it bulged outward.

  "You guys feeling sorry for yourselves or what?" 

  Silence.

  "Maybe a little," someone said quietly. 

  "Just thank your lucky stars you're not in the Middle East." 

  "Oh my God.  Are you Jewish?" 

  "Maybe.  Maybe not.  Who wants to know?"

  "I'm called," she mumbled her nickname, "And reason I ask is because I am." 

  All eyes fell on her and some mouths dropped. 

  "Are there others?" 

  "M'am?" 

  "Are there other Jews that got evacuated?"

  "It's not a closet." 

  "Did we say anything offensive?  We usually do."

Bigfoot and the unicorn

  blinked at each other after sitting quietly, facing each other, in the woods all morning. 

  The last of the tripping balls had left the night before as the thick black smoke of the "mile pile of tires" emcroached on the forest. 

  'We did it Bigfoot.  We helped everyone of them."

  Bigfoot was still too shy and not confident in himself enough to smile.  But his head dropped forward the slightest bit and his eyes looked up at the unicorn.

  "They're coming." A man taking a break from his grocery store jobs had removed the portable oxygen mask and gave a "head's up". 

  "Why are you crying Guardsman?" An EMS woman on foot with a lightweight backboard asked through hers.

  He woozed and knees bent but he straightened and he put his mask in a carribiner by the hose and switched its head to a full face shield.  "Must be the air." 

  The EMS woman didn't continue the conversation as the man tightened the fittings.  She offered the backboard but took it back before his hand could grab it.  "Injun."  The man slightly wheezed and the face shield fogged up on the inside.