He had a point. “Can you get me one? You know, just in case.”

Al closed the door, cutting off the sound of insects, and locked it. “You plan on shooting someone?”

I thought of the man I may have strangled. “I plan on defending myself.”

He walked to the kitchen and I followed. “Let’s just sit tight for a day or so before we worry about arming ourselves, all right? Hold a hammer, you find a nail. Guns wind up going off, and I don’t think we want to make things worse.”

I squeezed by Al and opened the fridge. Was relieved to feel cold air. A half-full liter of Coke Zero was standing next to a box of baking soda. I opened the freezer and saw a collapsed carton of ice-cream sandwiches encased in frosted ice.

“I’ll make a run into town and get us stocked up. Want anything in particular?”

A bottle of Jameson would hit the spot. “Just, whatever,” I said. I wasn’t interested in living as some survivalist out in the woods. I wanted my family back. My self-respect. “Stuff for sandwiches and stuff. Some coffee would be nice.”

“Got plenty of that,” he said, opening a cupboard to reveal cereal boxes, Teddy Grahams, and a large container of Folgers coffee. I grabbed the box of Teddy Grahams and started eating. They were stale, and the honey flavor had dissolved, but it was better than nothing.

“Stove works,” Al said, igniting the gas flame to prove it. “Water.” He lifted the faucet handle and it shuddered for a few seconds before pouring brown water that eventually cleared. “Let that run for a little bit,” he said.

“I’m boiling that shit.”

He smiled. “Shower has hot water. Just keep it short. No disposal. No dishwasher. Watch what you flush.”

“Dude, I’m not moving in.”

“Just saying. Takes a while to get a plumber out this way, you know.”

I popped another Teddy Graham, saw a framed letter by the door leading to the bathroom and went for a closer look. “How come you never told me about this place?” I said, starting to read the scripted verse.

Normal Day.…

Let me be aware of the treasure you are.

Let me learn from you, savor you,

bless you before you depart.

“Place is private, man,” Al said. “Reserved for people who need a private place to go.”

Let me hold you while I may,

for it will not always be so.

One day, my nails shall dig into the earth,

or bury into the pillow,

or I shall stretch myself taut

or raise my hands to the sky…

and want more than

all the world

your return.

“Some deep shit, there, Al.”

“Mantra of sobriety,” Al said.