Author's note:
This story is my first run at posting here at Lit. If you want a stroke story, this isn't it.
I'd genuinely appreciate constructive comments. First, I would like to thank Gamblnluck for his kind assistance in getting this story up. And thanks to you for reading this. I hope you enjoy going out into the bayou and swamp.
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Coven of the Ancient Swap
Chapter One - The rise of the virgin
Finally, the end of my time in the new Navy had arrived, and today my new life starts. Going over to yet another grey desk, "Chief? I'm Master Mender Tom Johansen, or at least I used to be, I guess. But after this exercise, I'm still Tom.
Looking up over from the screen on his desk, the old yeoman mumbled, "give me your pad, so all this stuff gets to you. Tom, today is the first day of a new life for you. First off, these are your separation orders. You know the first of every month you get your allotment? Next are all the farmhold docs. There's the title to the old mill and house you got there in Crawl Bayou and some land around it. You also get the title to swampland near your place. Here are the writs you'll need to get you the new equipment for the mill. When you're ready, call this number, and they'll make all the arrangements for you to get to do a survey and get the equipment for the mill.
Here's the info on getting the new solar power cells all set up and their number; give them a call when you get to the new place. There is a line credit to the Supply Store. That's tied to your NavFed account. These are the folks to call to get the surplus salvage barge you have sent to you. When you get there, what you'll need to do first is to go to the city-county building. Go to the clerk's office to get your property in your name. Then stop by the Sheriff's office and see them; likely, you'll need to get your POV registered there. Also, you collect the three new slaves that are being held for you there as well. It seems they all forgot to pay their taxes, so the whole family got enslaved, damn shame. That's everything you'll need."
Well, well, isn't that a boot? Not even a handshake, a salute, a cup of coffee, or much of anything else. Just like the old sign says, dogs and sailors stay off the grass. The next thing for me to do is head out into the rising sun and find my way to my new life.
Leaving Galveston, I made my way onto the super slab and headed my transporter eastward toward Crawl Bayou, my new home. The ride over was like riding on silk; the pod took care of navigation. As the transporter came to a stop at the bottom of the exit ramp, I saw a rusty old sign that read, "Welcome to Crawl Bayou, the front door to the Ancient Swamp."
The map showed Crawl Bayou sitting atop a sandbar wedged between the gulf on the south and the swamp on the north. Wandering around town, I found the dock where the fishing boats tied up. Next to it was a cramped repair yard that had a sorry-looking old fishing boat up on blocks. Next to that was the Supply Store, and down at the end was Goshert's Trading Post and General Merchandise. On the front of that building, a giant green alligator was looking down. Seeing that, I wondered if I fell into a rabbit hole and came out sometime before the plagues, a trading post, and general merchandise?
Behind this was the village of Crawl Bayou, which mainly consisted of some old tired small cabins and a few houses. The pod took me out of town and toward my new home, where I wanted to spend the night.
As I pulled up outside of the raised cottage, which was to become my new home, I reached over and got out of the onboard frig, two N-17 bars, and a bottle of water. As I ate the bars and sipped on the water, l looked about. The first thing that got my attention was how covered up the live oaks out in front were with moss. Well, that's for the future. For now, I needed to get the hammock out and string it up on the porch, so I have a decent place to sleep. Then going to the back of my transporter, I got out one of the seabags that held my clothes and brought it up to where my hammock was.
As morning came, it sounded like every bird out in the swamp was singing about the stranger on the porch of the old house. Who could that be laying out in front of there? What is he doing here? Into this chorus, I began to move about getting dressed in a clean set of utilities. First things, first. Getting coffee was the first thing to do, then go up to the city-county building and take care of the legal beagles there. That way, I won't get my ass tossed in jail for trespassing on my place. Then see about my new helpers, the slaves. Somewhere along the line, I wanted a real meal too, and I needed to talk with Solar Power.
Pulling into town, I spotted a grocery store tucked off the road. I dashing in, I ran into the scent of fresh coffee. Yeah, this is good; l need this coffee. Looking across the street, I saw a little cafe sitting there, Caroline's.
Since I had gotten to the city-county building before they opened up, I called Solar Power to get that started. The lady I spoke with told me they had already sent someone who surveyed both the mill and cottage, so everything was ready to go. She went on to say to me that the survey had shown both buildings would need to have all new wiring, so while they were hanging the panels and installing the batteries, they would get that done as well. The only question left is when do you want it done?" I asked hopefully, "can you do it tomorrow?"
The prompt and cheerful response was, "sure, we will have the crews at your place first thing in the morning."
Ahhh, the city-county building is open. Things are moving along.
Next to the entrance door was where I needed to go, the clerk's office. As I walked in, a woman waved me over, "Yes? What do you want, stranger?" I explained I had been awarded the title to the old mill, the cottage next door, some land around the two buildings, and something to do with the swamp around the place. Connecting my pad to her terminal, I transferred the necessary documents to her.
After the transfer was completed and reviewed, she snorted, "Well, looks like everything is in order. For sure and certain, when Little Leo hears about this, he will be majorly pissed. But that isn't my problem, mister. Need to get your fingerprint to get this all recorded." With that formality completed, the place out on Shell Road was mine.
"Oh, ma'am, can you direct me to the Sheriff's office?"
"Yeah." She grunted, "It's around back behind this building. You can't miss it."
I drove to the back of the building, parked my transporter there, and walked into a place that looked at best gloomy. Camped behind the desk was a sergeant who seemed to have forgotten how to smile. I politely explained what my business was here, that I needed to collect my new slaves and get my transporter registered here in the Crawl. I got my pad out and synced it with his terminal, then downloaded everything to him. He quickly looked at what I had downloaded, then looking up, he said. "Let me call out to the tombs and get your property heading this way. You need to go over the terminal there and follow the instructions to get a slave owner's license. When you get a green light come back here, I'll have your transporter registered and your slaves on the way."
Going through the screens necessary to get the slaves listed in my name, I thought this was just like back in the Navy when I reported to a new duty station. There was always a kiosk, like this, listing the station regs. Finally, I got the green light and went back to the desk sergeant. "OK, I got your records updated showing your new license and ownership, and I got the transporter registered here too. Take a seat over there, and as soon as you slaves are here, I'll get them scanned and released to you. Then take them and go about your business."
Fifteen minutes later, a heavy door swung open where three very disheartened slaves huddled together in the dark hallway. There was a man who looked to be about my age, a woman who might be a little younger than him, and a younger woman. All three had their hands behind their backs handcuffed. Attached to their shiny new slave collars were heavy black leather leashes that a deputy held in his hand. Another deputy came up to them with a scanner. He quickly scanned each slave's collar, then pulled the slave's lip down and checked the tattoo there. Quickly he confirmed that the slaves I was going to get were the slaves that I should have. With that done, the threesome became mine. I asked, "deputy, please remove their handcuffs and leashes. I believe they will be fine." He looked at me as if to ask, you sure. But he did as l had asked. Finally, we got out of there; I took them out into the morning sunshine.
Standing outside together in the parking lot, "folks, my name is Tom. I just got out of the Navy, where I was a Master Mender, which means I fixed every damn thing in the Navy. I'm new here in town, so you can expect I will be asking you for your help all the time and a lot of questions too. If you will, please introduce yourselves."
The older man began, "well, me, I guess you can call me Jackson, Master Tom."
Quickly I raised my hand, "Jackson, I'm going to ask, no, I will insist that all of you call me Tom. When I was in the Navy, Master was my rate. I was a Master Mender. Today that is not me; I'm Tom.
That statement seemed to put all three of them back a step or two. "Tom? Well, yes, I can do that, but you have to do something for me too. Call me Jack; you know my Momma would call me Jackson when she was setting to blister my butt. And I sure do hope you don't blister my butt. The lady next to me is my wife, well I guess ex-wife since all this happened, she's Angie. This youngster is our jewel, Paulie. Sometimes we call her Paulie Girl or just PG. But we always love her no matter the mischief she gets into."