Safe in the Lion's Den, Pt. 11

I put my arms around Portia, and kissed her sweetly.

"I can't wait to show you around in the morning!" I said enthusiastically. "The whole house, the property, the view; everything."

"I can't wait to see it too." she replied, as she let out a yawn. "And I can't wait to wake up next to you, either. I had a really nice time with you tonight."

"Me too." I responded gently, kissing her lightly on the forhead.

"Good night, Jack."

"Good night, Poppy." I whispered, as I closed my eyes and soon after, drifted off to sleep.

I awoke some time later to a brilliant flash of magnesium-white light, and reflexively began counting in my head. Seventeen seconds later, the echoing crash of rolling thunder rattled the windows over the bed. At five seconds delay per mile, it meant that the bolt had struck a little over three miles away. These intense storms pop up like this in these parts, as the air is forced between the two mountain ranges, causing a classic warm and cold front storm cell to form in a matter of minutes. These storms actually add an additional fourteen inches of rain a year over the rest of the county, putting us into a biome capable of sustaining plants and trees that might not otherwise grow here.

In my location, thunder echoes not only up and down the river valley, but also off of the mountain chain located to the south and west of the house. This results in a very low frequency rumble that rattles windows, shakes the house and sometimes lasts for thirty seconds or more, before eventually subsiding.

Portia was jolted awake by the rumbling peal of thunder, and glanced around.

"Holy shit it's dark in here!" she mumbled. "What happened to the moon?"

"It's probably set by now," I replied, "but even if it hasn't, it's behind that storm you hear coming. I told you it gets dark in here at night!"

Another bolt of lightning flashed, this time flickering four or five times; indicating a powerful strike. I only counted to twelve this time, before the pressure wave hit us.

"It's just over two and a half miles away." I remarked. "It's getting closer. It'll be on top of us in less than five minutes."

"How can you tell?" Portia inquired.

"Every one-one-thousand is a fifth of a mile." I explained. "A kilometer is a little over three thousand feet, so every three seconds is a klick. Now, you can count it out in your head too, and get your metric conversion."

"Is there anything you don't know?" she asked with a tinge of amusement to her voice.

"Hmm," I replied thoughtfully, "I don't know."

We both giggled at my response, and yet another bolt of lightning lit up the room. This time, the report came less than five seconds later.

"Less than a mile." I commented. "It's almost on top of us."

Suddenly, a torrent of rain pelted the window, as lightning began to flash every few seconds or so, crashing about us from every direction. We were in the heart of the storm now, and it would soon be past. At the moment, however, the strikes were so close that the thunder was now coming in high pitched, staccato-like blasts, as opposed to the low frequency rumbles a few minutes prior.

The rain was beating against the side of the sturdy house so hard, that it sounded like small hail rattling the windowpanes. Portia hugged me, and kissed me on the cheek.

"This is actually kind of cool." she said softly. "Does this happen often?"

"It does." I replied. "So I built a lightning trap on top of the high meadow to try and catch a fulgurite."

"A what?" she exclaimed.

"When lightning strikes the ground, it goes down into the Earth," I explained, "and it melts its way through. That vitrified dirt is essentially a frozen thunderbolt, and it's called a fulgurite. I've always wanted one, so I built a neat setup to attract a bolt of lightning and create one. I can just tear everything down, and there should be a fossilized bolt of lightning waiting for me."

"Sounds creative." Portia remarked. "Leave it to you to try and catch a bolt of lightning, Jack, but it sounds exactly like something that only you would think of doing."

A brilliant flash of purplish-white light filled the room, accompanied by an almost instantaneous crack of deafening thunder.

"That was close!" I whispered excitedly. "Like right on top of us, close! Maybe I was able to get a direct strike. We'll have to check it out tomorrow, after everything dries out. Speaking of that, I was going to take you on a tour around the place, but it'll be too wet until afternoon. Let's go into town and do some shopping instead. I'll take you to the mall, and you can get some more clothes, since we didn't finish decking you out the other day. I know you'll probably want to do some cooking too, so let's make up a grocery list, and I need a few things from the home center."

"Sounds good to me." she responded, with a yawn.

By now the thunder was quickly fading, as the storm raced on down the valley and left nothing but the sound of rain beating more gently now, against the house and windows. We kissed again, and then fell back to sleep. When I awakened again, it was getting light out. Portia stirred as well, and we smiled at one another.

"Good morning, Honey-bottom." I said casually, but with a very wide smile.

"Hey there." she whispered back. "I had a wonderful night's sleep after that wonderful night with you. I loved that thunderstorm too."

"Wait until we have one while it's snowing." I responded. "You'll love thunder snow. It's so melancholy to hear thunder rumbling while it's snowing."

My phone suddenly vibrated on the nightstand, followed immediately by the loud, old fashioned ring. I picked the phone up, and was surprised to see that it was a call from my niece, Reba."

"It's my niece." I said, as I opened the phone. "Hey Babe."

"Hey Hon." she answered.

"You call your niece, 'Babe?'" Portia inquired.

"It's a long story." I replied. "I'll tell you later."

"I can't wait to hear it." she responded dryly.

"Is that your lady friend from Wally World?" Reba queried, hearing Portia's voice clearly.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"'

"Well, it was on the news the other night." she explained. "Since you're an actor, your face is on the Internet. Someone did facial recognition on that footage, and put a name to your face. Jack, you're all over the Internet right now. I mean, you're fucking trending, Uncle Bruh!"

"Of course I am." I muttered. "That's just what I needed on top of everything else."

"Turn your computer on," she said, "and have a look at your home page. Take a screen shot too. It's not every day that you see your own name trending."

I will say from personal experience that it is in fact, pretty fucking cool, after all of the bad publicity has calmed down. Even the political cartoons eventually become funny.

"I suppose." I agreed grudgingly. "Say, do you have the kids this weekend?"

"No, Joe picked them up last night, why?"

"Why don't you drive up for the weekend?" I suggested. "We're going to head into town and do some shopping. You could meet us there for lunch, and follow us back."

"Hey, that sounds great!" she exclaimed. "Just be careful, would you?"

"Careful is my middle name." I said confidently.

"You don't have a middle name!" she retorted. "And I mean it! I love you."

"I love you too." I responded. "Let's shoot for around One or so, for lunch. Give me a shout when you're about thirty minutes out, and we'll figure out where to meet, okay?"

"Okies." she agreed. "See you then. Bye."

"C'mon." I said to Portia, as I got out of bed and began putting my clothes from yesterday back on for the moment, so that I could check the computer. "Let's get up and out of here. I want to get into town, get what we need, and scat on back here, so we can hole up for awhile."

"Okay Jack." she agreed.

Within a minute, we were both dressed and headed for the office in the next room. I gently rapped on Sophia's door with my knuckles and called out.

"Hey Princess, rise and shine! Got something to show you."

"Okay, be right there." she called back.

A moment later the door opened, and several hungry cats burst out; heading for the stairs and some morning chow.

"Hi Jack!" she greeted me enthusiastically. "Boy, that sure was some storm last night. It didn't seem to bother the cats at all, though."

"Nah," I replied, "they're shop cats."

"What does that mean?" she inquired curiously.

"They don't get spooked by loud noises." I explained. "You'll often find cats in factories, warehouses and workshops. They keep the mice down and don't mind the sound of the loud machinery. So now, it's a term used to refer to cats who don't freak out if you drop a fork on the floor. Anyway, my niece just called me and said I'm trending on the Internet. We're going to turn the computer on and see for ourselves. Wanna join us?"

"You're trending?!" she exclaimed. "Well, yee-eahhh!"

I smiled and turned the computer on. Sure enough, under "Trending Now," was my name. And it wasn't just anywhere on the list, either. It was at the very top of the lefthand column; the #1 spot!"

"Holy shit!" Portia burst out. "Jack, that's awesome!"

"Mama Mia, Jack!" Sophia added. "You're famous! Quick, get a screenshot before it changes! You should print it out and frame it!"

Heeding both her and Reba's advice, I did just that. Twice in fact, just to be certain I had gotten it. Then, I took a deep breath and clicked on my name. To my astonishment, links to various news sites and Me2b videos flooded the screen.

"Here's one." I said casually, as I read the title. "'So, who IS Jack Fawkes?' Hmm, I have no idea. Have either one of you ever heard of him?"

Portia and Sophia glanced at one another, and then at me.

"Nope. Never heard of him." Sophia responded with a huge grin.

"Let's watch the video and find out, shall we?" I said with a wink. "He certainly sounds interesting."

I clicked the link, and it took me to a Me2b video.

"So, who is Jack Fawkes, really?" the podcaster inquired. "He seems to be a mystery of sorts, so let's find out, shall we? Well, here is Jack Fawkes the model."

The same modeling headshot that was on my business cards appeared onscreen.

"That's a REALLY good picture, Jack." Sophia commented. "You look like a soap opera star."

"Thank you, Princess." I replied, a little taken aback by her comment.

I knew how she meant it, but it still sounded a bit odd, coming from a child.

"And here is Jack Fawkes the actor." the host continued, displaying a frame from one of my TV episodes with my sidearm drawn. And this is Jack Fawkes the politician. Yes Folks; this guy has also held public office."

A picture of me in a dark blue suit and tie was now featured.

"That's a nice picture of you too, Guy." Portia said, squeezing my hand gently. "You DO look so handsome."

I didn't have time to reply, as he continued.

"And I got these last two from his IMDb profile."

The picture now on view, was a recent pic of me leaning slightly forward and flexing my arms in an outdoor setting. The shadows accented every single muscle in my arms; making me look like I was still perfectly toned with the 4.5% body fat I had when I was 21.

"That one's even better!" Portia breathed. "You have amazing arms, Jack."

"But wait, it gets even better!" the man exclaimed. "You've seen the arms on this guy, but have a look at this!"

It was my main IMDb profile pic, and the same one I used on all the other social media accounts that were actually me. It was a picture of me wrestling a mountain lionesss, with with my right arm wrapped around her neck in a headlock. The caption read, "This was NOT what I had in mind, when they told me I'd be wrestling a muddy cougar!"

"Now, that's funny!" Sophia giggled. "Did you come up with that?"

"I don't get it." Portia mumbled.

"I'll explain it later." I offered.

"Yes." she agreed, as she crossed her arms. "You can explain that right after you explain to me why you call your niece 'Babe,' and why she calls you 'Hon.'"

"That's right, Folks." the podcaster interrupted, as he continued. "This guy's wrestling a fucking panther! He didn't just play a bad-ass cop on TV! No, this dude put a fucking mountain lion in a choke hold. But wait, there's more! Oh yeah, just when you didn't think it could get any better... he's also apparently a secret agent now, too!"

"It's not a secret anymore," I muttered, "thanks to you, you fucking asshole."

"Yeah, so here he is, kicking the shit out of a terrorist at Wally World. He was apparently protecting President McDonald's grand niece and her nanny, when they were accosted."

"Nanny-Ann." Sophia snickered, and Portia shot her an annoyed look in return.

"So why is a former model, actor, politician and author, body-guarding the president's grand niece? Well Folks, here's the cream cheese frosting on the cake: When Jack Fawkes was running for office, some ass clown decided to take some shots at the president - who was running for governor at the time - and he took three bullets for him.

"That's right, not only did this bad-ass motherfucker choke a fucking mountain lion out during a photo shoot, he jumped on top of the man who is now the President of the United States, and got shot three times and saved his life! I want THIS guy at my daughter's birthday party! And look, he's even got that whole Steven Seagal thing going; with the ponytail and all. Who knows, maybe it'll get popular again after all of this."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" I burst out. "Not that comparison again!"

"It's your own fault." Portia pointed out. "The confident demeanor and ponytail. People are going to compare you. You should know that."

"Maybe I was copying the Highlander," I sighed, "or maybe I was just being me, because you know, that's why I look and act the way I do."

"Either way, you're famous!" Sophia burst out. "That is so on bleek. I know Jack Fawkes, AND I'm staying in his house!"

"So is your mother." I responded. "And because of that - in a way - so are you."

"Yeah, but you're famous because you're interesting." she explained. "It's different. Mama is famous because of politics. You intrigue people. It's two different sides of the same dollar."

"Coin." I said with a smile. "But close enough. I certainly appreciate your faith in me, however."

"And one final note, Folks; he's also a legally ordained minister, so perhaps you can book him for your next daughter's shotgun wedding!"

"I don't think so, Tim." I muttered, as the video ended.

"You're really a minister?" Sophia inquired, her eyes wide. "Like a priest in church?"

"Yes, except I go by 'Brother' instead." I explained. "I'm non denominational. Actually, I'm not religious at all, so Brother is an easier title for people to relate to, if they aren't religious either."

"If you aren't religious, then why are you a minister?" she asked curiously.

"To help others who may not believe in God." I responded. "They need a counselor sometimes too. Anyway, I'm not an atheist. I pray from time to time, and my prayers are answered on occasion. I just don't believe in religion. It's a long story."

"You seem to have a lot of those." Portia observed dryly. "Perhaps we can catch up on all of them soon. Now, why don't we get this day going?"

"Sound's good to me." I said with a smile. "Why don't you grab your bags from Sophia's room and move them into ours? Oh, and Sophia, why don't you take your bathroom stuff downstairs? It's your bathroom now, if you want it."

"Really?" she inquired. "For real? Like I can decorate it and everything?"

"Within reason," I replied with a smile, "but with that designation comes a little responsibility as well. You will be expected to keep it clean and tidy, and remember; it will still be the main bathroom for everyone downstairs, so you'll have to stay on top of it. You up to the job?"

"My own room AND my very own bathroom?!" she exclaimed. "Oh Jack, I have always dreamed of having my very own toilet to scrub! This is so amazing; I think I'm going to cry."

She grinned at me, and I knew she was role playing again.

"You really do belong in Hollywood." I commented. "You'd be great in voice-overs too, I think. I still do them when I can. That's what all of this equipment is for."

"Ah, I thought maybe you did a podcast." Portia responded.

"Well I did; for nine years." I replied. "I had all of this audio equipment, and I figured I might put it to use and make me some money."

"Why didn't you just keep doing the podcast?" Sophia inquired. "Oh, never mind. I know; it's a long story!"

She rolled her eyes dramatically, and I smiled.

"You're so right, Princess." I chuckled, as I reached out and tousled her dark blonde hair. "You are SO right!"

We all showered and dressed for the day. Instead of my typical jeans and sleeveless black t shirt, today I opted for white digital camo BDUs and a white muscleman tee instead, along with an American flag skullcap. Portia donned a pair of jeans and a patriotic t shirt that I had picked up at Mt. Rushmore, which I gave her to wear.

"Now you look American!" I said exuberantly, as she put her cap on as well. "No one will recognize you at all! That shirt style is old enough that it doesn't look like a tourist just bought it, either."

"How old is it?" she inquired curiously.

"Let's see, I think I picked that one up in 1990." I replied. "So, thirty five years, I guess?"

"This shirt is thirty five years old?" she exclaimed. "It looks new!"

"A lot of stuff in this house is thirty five years old or older." I responded. "I told you, Poppy, I'm stuck in the Eighties. Anyway, I have an entire chest full of souvenir shirts like that, that I picked up from all over the country when I was in my early twenties. Help yourself, anytime you want to wear one. I have enough to last a lifetime. Oh shit! I almost forgot to call John!"

I dialed his number, and he answered immediately.

"Looks like you're getting popular." he observed. Would you try and tone it down?"

"We're going to head into town and stock up, so that we can hunker down for a while." I explained. "Then, I plan on staying here until this all blows over."

"Which is what I wanted in the first place!" John sighed. "Just be careful, and call me if you need anything. Out."

He ended the call, and I smiled at Portia.

"Let's get going."

We were soon on our way, winding along the country roads that I use to get to the closest city.

"This area coming up," I said, as we approached a wide curve, "is a dangerous spot. There have been several bad accidents here."

As if on cue, a car began to pull out from a side road to the left. I immediately laid on the horn and braked hard. The other car screeched to a halt, and I swerved around it, scaring the shit out of my two passengers, as I continued up the road as though nothing had happened.

"Mama Mia!" Sophia exclaimed. "That was close!"

"I see what you mean!" Portia finally said, breathing heavily. "How could they not see us?! This is a big car."

"It's the angle of the road." I explained. "It matches up with the angle of the windshield post in a lot of new cars. Have you ever seen me when I'm about to turn or change lanes?"

"Yeah, you bob around like one of those dashboard heads." Sophia observed.

"Now you know why." I responded.

"Why don't they do something about it?" Portia inquired.

"Because the asshole who's in charge of traffic lights for the State, says there has to be X number of crashes with fatalities before he'll consider it." I said bitterly. Not how many people are killed. Apparently, there haven't been enough deadly crashes yet, to warrant a traffic light."

"Is that what those crosses were for?" Sophia asked quietly.

"Yeah, we do that down here." I replied. "It's a reminder to others, what has happened."

"Doesn't he care?" Portia asked incredulously.

"He gets a bonus if he saves enough money." I explained. "I guess that's more important than tearing families apart. Some people just don't care."

Half an hour later, we were pulling into the parking lot of the only shopping mall in the former cigarette capital of the world.

"I still can't believe how Americans shop!" Portia exclaimed. "We have places like this too, but only two or three in the entire country! You must have hundreds of them!"

"Thousands," I replied, "and add shopping centers to that, probably tens of thousands; maybe a couple hundred thousand."

We entered the mall and paused, as I looked around to get my bearings.

"This is laid out like a cross," I explained, as I motioned to our left, "so we'll just make a circuit, and then take the escalator to the second floor and do it again."

I escorted the pair, with Sophia on my left, and Portia to my right.

"If either of you see a shop you want to stop into, just say so." I stated. "We'll get your wardrobes taken care of today."

As we were strolling along the second floor, I was slightly amused to see a young man dressed in jeans and a black sleeveless t-shirt, approaching us. To further my amusement, he also had a ponytail. We made eye contact and I nodded at him.

"Hey, it's Jack Fawkes!" I exclaimed, as both Portia and Sophia smiled at my greeting.

He grinned and leaned forward, flexing his arms.

"You kind of look like him too." the guy responded. "Just ditch the snow suit and hat, and go for the jeans and wife beater."

"I'll keep that in mind." I said with a smile. "He's a cool dude. You might want to get a crystal though."

As we passed each other, I paused for a second and then turned around to face him; leaning in slightly and flexing my arms in response. My necklace swung forward for a second, before I stood up straight. His jaw dropped in surprise, but he said nothing as we continued on.

"Now, you see how I did that?" I inquired, as we resumed walking. "That's what I was telling you about the other day. Hide in plain sight, and pretend to be a lookalike of yourself. It's called projecting. Politicians do it all the time with accusations. You know what I'm talking about, Poppy. Use it to your advantage."

We continued on, and spent the next two hours perusing the mall shops and finishing out Portia and Sophia's new clothes, which included a yellow sundress and a floppy, wide-brimmed hat for Portia, and she looked absolutely adorable.

Sophia fell in love with a pair of tan suede pigskin hiking boots, and pointed them out to me excitedly.

"Oh Jack, I've seen these on TV!" she burst out. "They look so American!"

"Well, if you wear those, and your mother braids your hair into pigtails, you'll certainly fit right in." I replied with a smile. "They're yours."

We continued window shopping for a while, before heading for the exit. As we were approaching toward the entry point we used to come in, Sophia pointed.

"Heavenly Hobbies." she read. "Can we stop in there, Jack?"

"Sure." I replied. "I haven't been in a hobby shop for a long time myself. There's all kinds of cool stuff in there."

"Would you like to look too, Little Jack?" Portia inquired facetiously.

"Why yes I would, Hot Mama," I replied, as I put my arm around her waist, "and don't ever call me that again. Sophia, lead the way."

We followed her into the shop, and I glanced around. I used to love hobby shops when I was younger, and this brought back some fond memories. Sophia stopped from time to time - as would I or her mother - to take a few extra moments at one item or another, but we all suddenly stopped at the same time and focused on the same thing; a crystal radio set.

I had one as a kid; the Tandy one from Radio Shack, and I used to love listening to it in bed at night. This was especially true at Christmas, back when they would play REAL Christmas carols; not the depressing bullshit they pass off as "Holiday songs" nowadays. I also remember tuning in to the CBC, in Montreal. I had what seemed like miles of thin gauge copper wire strung all over the outside of the house to tune in everything east of the Mississippi. Why we were never struck by lightning I will never know, but reflecting back, I couldn't help but smile at the memories. Memories of a different time and place, where everyone who's gone now, was still alive. Everyone that I miss very dearly.

I inadvertently squeezed Portia's hand at the thought, and she squeezed back. I guess that she too, was reflecting back on a different time and place. I'd have to talk to her about it later on, but at the moment, this left only Sophia's reason for stopping at the kit.

"Look, a crystal radio set!" she exclaimed. "I've heard about these. I know it's archaic technology, but it's still fascinating! I've always wanted to put one together."

There she was again, this time throwing around the word "archaic" like it was a commonly used word, and English was her second or third language?! It was going to be difficult, trying to place her in school with peers of an equal intellect, who weren't several years her senior.

"I had one as a kid," I admitted, "and it's probably the onely thing I don't have as a prepper. Maybe we could all work on it together?"

"Like a family project," Sophia said excitedly, "if we were an actual family."

She meant nothing by it, but it triggered something in both Portia and myself. We glanced at one another quickly, but said nothing.

"It might be nice." Portia agreed, quickly cutting in and redirecting the conversation. "I always wanted one too."

I paid for the kit, and we continued with the day. Next on the list, was the membership warehouse to stock up on bulk food items, like meat, pasta and vegetables. Once again, Portia was stunned, as we entered the store.

"Okay now; we have NOTHING like this!" she burst out. "This looks like a food depot... what would you call it? A warehouse! That's the word I was thinking of, where you would distribute food to all of the stores, and you can just shop here?"

"If you're a member." I replied, as I pulled out the shopping list we had compiled.

At that point, my phone rang, and I pulled it out knowing full well it was going to be Reba; running a bit behind, as usual. It used to aggravate me, as I'm always on time - if not early - but I've now come to accept it's part of her make up.

"Hey Babe." I sighed. "What's up?"

"Hey Hon." she replied. "I'm stuck in traffic, so I'm running a bit behind. I can see the flashing lights up ahead, so I'm thinking ten more minutes to get through, and then I'm about fifteen minutes out from there, so half an hour or so. That okay?"

"It's fine." I replied. "We're in Simm's Club right now, so it should work out fine. There's a Chik-Fil-Up out front, so let's meet there. First one there calls, okay?"

"Okies!" she replied lightheartedly. "See you soon. Can't wait!"

We wandered up and down the aisles; each one holding more and more awe for Sophia. Packages of disposable plates, cups and silverware by the several hundred count, bags of dog food as tall as her and candy by the gallon jug.

"Hey Jack!" she called out, as something caught her gaze. "What is agave nectar?"

"It's a syrup made from agave plants, like we make maple syrup in the US and Canada." I replied. "Why you ask, Kimosabe?"

"Oh, they have bottles of it for sale." she explained, pointing to the rack.

"Well, I've never tried it before," I said, reaching out and picking up a plastic jug of the stuff, "but I wanted to make pancakes with maple syrup for you two, so maybe we can all try it on pancakes too, and find out for ourselves?"

"Sounds yummy!" Sophia said excitedly. "I can't wait to try it! I bet you'll like it too, Jack."

"I'm sure I will, Princess." I replied thoughtfully. "You seem to have a knack for making suggestions about exactly what I'm thinking of at the moment, and you're usually right, too. It's a bit eerie, don't you think?"