JIm and Donald took flashlights and walked carefully, with their guns raised and cocked. They didn’t hear any other noises and checked with back and forth motions of the flashlights, all across the yard. When they came to the backyard, Donald said, “Come over here. I want to show you something. We may not have found what caused that scream, but our late night trip in the yard doesn’t need to be wasted. Come look at the pantry pit. It just needs one more day to be seven feet deep.” And they shone their flashlights into the pit to see….a man! Max had fallen into the pit and hit his head on the hard packed earth and was knocked out cold!

The men raced down the pantry stairs and over to the man. “Who could he be?” Donald asked.

Jim said, finding his pistol, “I don't know but I can wager he didn’t come here on a friendly visit. “ They took Max’s pistol and ammo and Donald said, “We had better check him for any other weapons. They found a chest revolver and one on his ankle, as well.

“What do we do now?” asked Jim.

“Well we bring him into the living room,and tie him up to a chair for starters. I guess you and I had better take turns guarding him,” Donald answered. “I’m curious. I think I will call Carl. We only have one enemy that I can think of. Hello, Carl?”

“Yes, I was just falling asleep and I haven’t been sleeping well. I hope this is important,”

Carl said.

“What does this fella Max look like?” Donald asked.

Carl said, “He looks like the stereotypical FBI man, with dark hair slicked back with greasy kid stuff and either a three piece suit or a polo shirt with grey slacks. Oh and he has a lightning scar on his left cheek, I think. But you don’t have to worry. The government is not backing him up and I don’t think he could ever find you, way up in remote Alaska.”

Jim said, “It’s him. He has the scar!”

Carl said, “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle! What do you think he had planned?”

“I think he was going to shoot us all, judging by the guns and ammo!” Donald said. “He must have been walking around outside, casing the place and he fell into our pantry hole and knocked himself out! We have disarmed him and will take him inside and tie him up. What's next after that, I don’t know!”

Max woke up about three o’clock in the morning, he guessed. He was inside in a great living area and he couldn’t move a muscle. He was tied up. They must have thought he was Houdini and could get out of anything, from the way he was tied up. His hands were tied in front of him and then down under the chair and finally up to the back of the chair! His legs were tied together and then there was another rope from each leg to the opposite leg of the chair. Then his belly was tied to the railing of the stairs behind him. They may not have been lawmen, but somebody knew his knots! Max realized all of his guns were gone; he couldn’t feel them. He didn’t know what his strategy was going to be now. Max heard some chirping beside him and looked. There were birds in a very nicely crafted large house. “I think they call it an aviary.” Max said. He watched them for a while because what else was he going to do?

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Ray Moss was present for the visit of the media the next day. They took a picture of one of the homeless women in the beauty shop on the ship, getting her hair done, wearing a big smile. Then they took pictures of the children in the pool, laughing and splashing and squealing for joy! There was a puppet show put on for the children and that was photographed, as well.

After the photo shoots, it was time for questions and answers. “Sir, the big question we are all wondering is, are you going to take the homeless addicts and put them into a clinic here in LA like you did in Portland where they will all be murdered?” There was a hum of people talking in the background.

Ray answered, “I don’t know what happened in Portland, but nothing like that is going on here. Have you seen the posters that say we only accept sober people under 55 on the cruise ships here?”

Another reporter asked, “You do know that a very large number of homeless people are elderly and disabled and addicts? You will only be helping a portion of the homeless with this cruise ship solution. What do you propose to do with the rest of them?”

Ray answered, “I don’t know at the moment. We are taking it one step at a time. Feel free, if you think of solutions to let your mayor know. I’d like to invite you back tomorrow to visit our on board school and to see how the homeless have been integrated into the work force on the ship. Some are teachers, some are chefs, some are mechanics, etc. I think you will find it interesting.”

He got good reactions and was pleased. Hopefully this was enough distraction from the clinic in Portland.

In Portland, the elderly were comparing notes about what they had gotten for their spa treatment and seemed relaxed and happy at dinner. They were promised a special spa sleeping formula drink that would be delivered to their rooms. Some of the rooms had been rearranged to be able to sleep two people, so different friends were asking to room together.

The doctor was trying to take a nap before he went on duty for the night. He was tossing and turning, thinking about what Irma had said . It really hit a nerve with him. He couldn’t sleep and then it was time to go to work. The nurse brought in one of the elderly for each of the two rooms. The doctor walked in, gave the sleeping elderly person their shot then went to the other room and did the same to them. Then back to the first room and dumping that person into the deep pit and then the same for the second person. The nurse brought in two other sleeping elderly people and it started over again, and over and over all night long. When the doctor had finished and gone to his room, he sank down on his bed in exhaustion. But could he sleep? No, he kept seeing the faces of those elderly people. People who hadn’t done anything wrong.

The doctor had been doing assisted suicides for twenty years, but the difference was they asked for it and wanted it. These people hadn’t asked for it or consented to it. They weren't drug addicts, their only crime was that they were old.The doctor thought about Irma and started weeping. “What have I done? What have I done? She was just like me and I hurt her even more. I killed her!” He cried and cried with no relief. The doctor got up and found his belt. He pulled some rope out of his medical kit. He moved a chair over to the middle of the room. He stood on it and looped his belt over the support in the false ceiling and then pulled it tight. He tied the rope to the belt. Then he said, “Irma, this is for you.”