Why I carry a gun while mowing

When I mow my yard I always let my mind wander. I remove the restraints and governors, and more or less turn it loose. There are times that I am so deep in thought that I don't even see the endless grass in front of me. It's as if I'm on autopilot. I have two or three "standard" rivers of thought that I follow, each one open to multiple variants and courses, so it never gets old.

Today as I sat on the mower plowing through tall grass full of biting bugs, I began to think of David Hyde Pierce. Well, not him per se, but a character he used to play, Niles Crane. For the life of me I can't picture Niles Crane, or his brother, Fraiser, ever mowing a yard. I try to imagine him in one of his beautiful suits, and with his fussy ways, brushing grass out of his hair and eyes......I can't do it. It just can't be done. Not even if he were the last man on Earth and the whole thing needing mowing would he ever get on a lawn mower. Not even if he were the last man on Earth.......

The image of Niles Crane is now replaced with one of me on the mower. When you are way out in the country and alone, mowing, it can seem like you're the last person left alive on the planet. You cant hear anything because of the noise. No humans around to divert your eyes. You're all alone. And what if that were true? What if some horrible thing had happened to the Earth and you really were the last person left alive?

Would I be mowing my yard if the world as we all know it ceased to be? Would a shattered old woman who has lost everyone near and dear to her take the time and go through the trouble to scrounge up gas to put in a lawnmower? Would this same tired broken woman use her valuable energy to mow her yard when it's all she can do to carry enough water to wash herself properly? I very well might do just that. In times when our life has been turned upside down it is only human nature to seek those things which represent "normal". Mowing a yard would be the perfect escape from the silence of a civilization that no longer exists. Memories from childhood would spring to mind...chasing fireflies at dusk as your Dad cleaned his mower after a long day of yard work. Or in her later years, helping your Mother off her mower, and being amazed that someone in their 80s could work as hard as she did.

So here I am, the last person alive, mowing back and forth, while my mind drifts back to happier times. It's a small relief from the misery that has become my existence. Ah, but that relief is not lasting.....for what if there are others still out there? Not many, maybe just a handful? And what if, given the way our society was, what if some of them are mean? If only just one of them was vicious that would still be one too many. If there are but a few humans left, then the number of potential victims has also diminished. I was actually safer in a world full of misfits and malcontents. The hunting ground for these types of people was mostly inner-city....and I was safe out here in the country. Now who knows? What if I come across someone who is mean? Or hungry? Or maybe someone who has gone insane from the silence of this world?

Such thoughts are doing me no good. I need to go back to that nice place inside my head, with all the sweet memories of my family. I round the side of the house and the breath catches in my lungs. There is a man. At first Im not sure if he is real or if my mind is busy trying to scare me again. Then he starts walking towards me. Oh my God! Do I run? I'm too old to run. Besides the image of some poor frightened animal that chose to try and outrun its predator, only to be brought down and ripped to shreds, comes floating across my mind. He raises his hand in a friendly wave. The other hand is holding a dirty knapsack of some sort.....perhaps he has traveled a great distance. I can see his hair is much too long. It reminds me of my high school days when such was the fashion. Yet I can still see that it used to be trimmed and sculpted into a more modern look. He looks thin, his clothes seem to flap about him. Yet they are clean, cleaner than mine anyway.

He comments on my mowing.....he says he couldn't believe it when he heard my mower running. He loves the smell of fresh cut grass. He says he thought he would never again smell that smell. That it reminds him of his Momma, since he always took care of her yard for her. For some reason the mention of his Momma makes me feel better. Do monsters have Mommas? Do they care for them the way I cared for mine? Surely not. I can feel myself begin to relax.

I can see he is smiling now. His teeth are white and well cared for. Maybe he knows of a community somewhere. A place where the others that survived have all joined together for company and protection. Would I be able to leave here and join them? Leave all that I know behind me, with all the belongings of my past family and all my memories? I feel better picturing this infant community. I feel hopeful for the first time since my world ended. Could this man that I was so afraid of be my savior? Will he be my family so I wont have this aching loneliness?

Feeling calmer, I shut off the mower as he approaches me. Maybe he is bringing news .....wonderful news of some kind. I can see him better now. He's not really all that thin. It's just that the clothes he's wearing are too big for him. He's actually lean and very well muscled. As he reaches me he swings his knapsack off his shoulder and sets it on the ground. When it makes contact, for a moment...the briefest of moments....the top gapes open slightly. And I saw what was inside. In that flicker of an instant I know what I saw. It was a human foot. A severed human foot. And what I thought to be dirt has an awful reddish tint.

My eyes darted back to him. Does he know I saw it? It really doesn't matter at this point. for now I am seeing him as he truly is. He is muscular. He is smiling but the smile does not reach his dead staring eyes. And his smile really isn't a smile is it? It's more a drawing up of the lips to show his teeth. He is feral. There is no chance for escape. He is young and fast. I am old and worn out. He is the predator and I am the prey. Foolish, foolish old woman. I am caught.

Well......I give myself a good shake to snap back to reality. I know the world didn't end today. I was at the gas station earlier getting fuel.....and I didn't have to use a bucket to get it out of the ground either. There is no man standing before me wanting to do me harm. Damn. Everything is fine. I'm not the last person on this Earth. I fire up the mower again and breathe a little easier. Really had myself going there for a while......Everything is fine. Yes indeedy. Unless that is.....the world ended while I was mowing. And I didn't hear it because of the noise.......no, wait....really? Is that a man I see walking down the road??????