On The Porch (14)
Synopsis: If you’re just joining the story, Roger Kiser is a young man who was abandoned by his foster family at a bus stop with nothing but a backpack and a bus ticket. The bus eventually dropped him off at a western outpost known as Buffalo Rind, North Dakota. Without shelter from the mid-winter cold, Roger sought out the town’s largest church in hopes of receiving help. Instead he was directed to the large home next door. The home’s resident called for Roger to approach the home. While walking up the yard, three dogs freighted Roger and he slipped on an icy patch breaking his family’s jar of urine (boys used it in the car for emergencies). Let’s pick it up…
It took several minutes for Roger to reach the screen door. He opened it and gave a weak greeting. “Uh, hello sir. Are you Minot? I understand he lives here and the notice on the church door said he could help me. I need a place to stay for the night.”
The older gentleman narrowed his eyes. He studied the young man trying to tag an age to him. Roger waited uncomfortably for Minot to answer.
Minot became trapped by a stampede of quick thoughts. “Hmmm, he looks like he’s about a junior in high school. Probably a run away. Look at that! He’s not even wearing a coat! Wait,” Minot sniffed a bit. “Is that urine I smell?”
“Sir?”
The smell put a scowl on the Minot’s face that was impossible to soften. The old man’s demeanor and freezing breath gave him the look of a puffing dragon. “Yes, I’m Minot. Kid, how old are you? Where are you from?”
Kiser leaned stiffly to one side and placed his backpack on the ground at the base of the porch steps. “Sir, I just turned nineteen and I’m from Lexa, Arkansas.”
Roger was still standing awkwardly in the porch doorway.
It wasn’t often people from the southern United States made it this far north. They usually froze to death somewhere in the middle of Nebraska. “Arkansas huh? Ok then, come in son. I shouldn’t be so rude regardless of how you smell.” The old man turned from the doorway and took a seat on one of three weathered wooden chairs. “Here, take the seat opposite and slightly downwind of me.”
Roger left his backpack where he had dropped it. “I’m sorry sir. When the dogs ran by me, I accidentally dropped my jar of pee. I may not smell too hot but it’s mostly my bag. You see it was my job to keep track of the boy’s bottle during long road trips. In retrospect I should have gotten rid of it.” He placed his carry case on a small table. “My name is Roger Kiser.”
“Hello Roger,” the aged man’s face eased considerably. His expression wasn’t pleasant just nonbelligerent. It gave his breath the look of a white cloud instead of smoke. The man brought his hand up to the chest of his heavy flannel. “My name is Minot. Now, where is your family?”
“I have none.” The look of desperation that lingered on Roger’s face turned forcefully to disgust. “I sprang fully formed from a social worker’s garbage can in Little Rock. She arranged my adoption to a proud family that can trace their lineage all the way back to the first marijuana plant. After my usefulness expired, they mercifully released me to the whims of US interstate system.”
Minot responded with a heavy sigh. He took a few moments to study his boots before responding. “Well Roger, when you leave here where do you plan on going?”
This was bad news. If Minot wasn’t going to help him then he had nowhere to go but back over to the church. A bit of disappointment tinged his voice. “Uh, well, I suppose I’ll go over to that church on the other side of the street. If there is anyone there, I’ll ask for someplace to sleep tonight. If no one answers the front door, I’ll try the buildings in the back.”
Kiser stood and retrieved his carrying case.
“Wait, believe me, Ollie doesn’t want you over there.” Minot sounded certain. The old man paused again before continuing. “I can arrange a place for you to sleep. But tomorrow we will contact your family and see if there is some way you can be reconciled.”
Roger turned and walked straight for the screen door.
Minot was out of his seat now. “Look, you can’t just run off. There is nowhere for you to go and I’m willing to bet you don’t have any money. Why don’t you sit back down and tell me why you don’t want to go home.”
“Sir, I would rather train roaches to do tricks on a street corner in Haiti than return home again.”
“Well, sit down and tell me what’s wrong with Arkansas?”
“Well, it isn’t really Arkansas anymore sir.” Roger walked back over and took his seat he took a deep breath, and narrated his unusual voyage.
After hearing Roger’s story, Minot wasn’t sure whether to believe the young man or not. His tale sounded surreal but the earnestness with which it was told seemed genuine. In the end, he decided to offer the young man a more permanent solution and convince him to return to his family at a later date. At least he would be out and lost in the middle of nowhere.
“Roger,” he began. “I have a cellar that would make a fine apartment. There is no access from it to the main house. The only entrance is a heavy slanted door out on the back of the house.” The old man raised his voice a bit. “However, it takes two things to rent the cellar. It takes commitment and courage. It requires a little more of one than the other. Do you happen to have either?”
“Uh, what do you mean by that?”
“Do you want someplace to stay or not?”
Roger quickly responded, “Well, sure but…”
“Then get your pee bag and let’s go.”
The large pet flap on the screen door opened and closed. One of the dogs casually sauntered to his master’s side. In his mouth was a segment of the shoulder strap from Roger’s backpack.
For a moment, the old man seemed amused. “It looks like the dogs have decided that you are below them in the pecking order around here.” Minot leaned over and mumbled something to the dog that sounded Germanic. “Das stimmt nicht. Er wohnt hier.”
In response, the dog growled and dropped the tattered remains of Roger’s strap. It then scampered back to the front yard. “Yea, sorry Roger. I should have told you that anything in the yard the dogs consider theirs. They show very little remorse or interest in compensation.”
“Uh Minot sir, what did you say to him?
“I told them you would be staying here and that they were not to eat you. Relax while I grab the cellar keys.”
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