There sat a cabin. Small. Sturdy. Well-built. A short hike off the Appalachian Trail. Just two-and-a-half miles from the nearest town. The owner was a man in his mid-fifties with gray-green eyes, a dusting of frosty hair on his head, and a full, untamed white beard that covered much of face and came down to his upper chest. The man had two dogs - both mutts. One named Fancy. The other called Xerxes.
Today, he'd gone into town with Xerxes. He wore a pair of ratty jeans, a long sleeve green T-shirt, and a pair of timeworn hiking boots. The gentleman carried a long walking stick not because he needed it, but because it made sense to ward unwanted pests - animals and humans alike. In his other hand was a two-gallon container of diesel fuel. An over-sized backpack was strapped over his shoulders.
The sinewy, lean fellow that had classic features and square jawline behind that tangled mess of facial hair, had purchased a few rations from the general store. He preferred walking whenever possible, but always grabbed some gasoline to keep his 55-gallon steel drum filled to the brim just in case he needed to drive his black 1991 Ford F-150 extended cab pickup any great distance.
A hiker approached from the opposite direction. The person appeared to be African-American. Not that the man cared very much, It was simply an observation. One did not often see Black people hiking this part of the Appalachian trail in southwest Virginia. The individual looked legit. Large backpack with water bottle hanging. Boots. Cargo shorts over some type of long underwear. Hat. "Ease up, boy," the man instructed his canine companion.
Xerxes heeled.
As the hiker got closer, the loner said, "Don't worry. I'll put on his leash."
"It's fine," the younger guy with reddish-brown skin smiled gently. "May I pet him?"
"Sure," the guy nodded towards the dog.
The stranger knelt down for an embrace and proclaimed, "Who's a good boy?"
Xerxes liked the attention. It wasn't often he saw the face of another besides his owner. And, today was a rare treat. He'd been to town and was fussed over and it was happening all over again.
The hiker stood and asked, "What his name?"
"Xerxes."
"Like the Persian king of kings."
"Yeah," he smirked and cleared his throat. "Who are you really?"
"My name's Shahnaz Tribble. Shahnaz is Persian. It means pride of the king."
The man paused for a beat and ran the name through his mental database.
"That okay," asked Shahnaz.
"Yeah! That's fine. I'm...uh...Dave," he extended a hand calloused by chopping wood and working his land.
"Nice to meet you. You can call me Shah!"
"Okay, Shah!"
The newly met dog lover took a swig from his water bottle.
"It's almost empty. You want some more," inquired Dave.
"That'd be great. I know there's a general store up about two miles, but I drink like a fish."
Dave chuckled. "Just water or spirituous libations as well."
"I'm a lightweight with alcohol," giggled the clearly effeminate guy.
"My cabin is just a mile or so back through here. If you wanna come?"
Shah blew out his cheeks briefly signaling suspicion.
"This isn't some kind of 'Deliverance' set up," laughed Dave. "I promise."
"If it were, would you tell me before?"
"Good point, but something tells me you know how to protect yourself."
"Why's that?"
"Well," Dave started. "No offense, but not too many Black people are going to hike out in Appalachia alone. So you've probably got some protection with you.. Plus you're seem worldly and well-educated. I bet you've also taken one of those women's self defense classes too."
"I am and I have," Shah admitted with a quizzical look.
"In my previous life I had to be able to assess people quickly. It's just the nature of what I did. You seem resilient, but clearly there's a feminine air about you. You want people to know you're not a victim," Dave explained further.
"What did you do for work," inquired the backpacker.
"That's a long story," sighed Dave. "I left it behind for a reason. What's your story?"
"I worked for a startup. The owners sold the company. I took the buyout. I always wanted to do something different. So this it?"
"How long have you been out of work?"
"Officially two months, but they kept me around for 30 days for consulting."
"I hoped they compensated you well."
"I wasn't an owner, but I'm happy with what I got."
"Good for you," Dave grunted as they walked.
"Nice place," beamed Shah when he saw the dwelling.
"It's not much, but it's all mine," the older man puffed out his chest.
"Brilliant. So are you off the grid?"
"Mostly. I got this," he waved a basic flip phone. "And I use a satellite internet service for when I need it. Otherwise yeah!"
"That's great," Shah smiled.
"Well, come on in. Sit anywhere. I'll pour you a glass of water then we can fill your bottle before you go."
"Sounds good," the kindhearted fellow set down his backpack before crashing on the old leather couch.
Out ran another dog.
"Fancy! Heel," Dave yelled.
She stopped in her tracks.
"They don't see too many people other than me," he explained from the kitchen.
"It's fine," replied back Shah who was now on his knees tussling with both animals.
"They really like you," Dave returned. "That's not usually how they are."
"Is that so," the visitor huffed, trying to stand up.
"Fancy. Xerxes. Retreat," the man howled.
The dogs scampered away.
"You didn't have to do that," Shah attempted to assert himself.
"Nonsense. You're a guest. They need to respect that. Plus, I'm the only Alpha in this house."
"Well, I'm here now."
Dave rolled his eyes. "You may have pledged Alpha Phi Alpha, but you are not the Alpha male in this house."
"So you know about Black frats," the softer one asked incredulously.
"I do. That's a piece of my former life."
"What were you."
"Don't worry about it. Here's your water," Dave handed it over before taking a sip of strong black coffee.
"You're very intriguing." Shah sniffed the water and set it aside.
"It's not laced with anything. You've been hiking. You should rest up a bit."
"Okay," Shah picked up the glass.
"Tell me where you're from originally," Dave said.
"I grew up in San Diego."
"Oh a liberal bastard," chuckled the man.
