I was led to my weapons by the LORD two weeks ago. I was really looking for food or something I could sell for food. Clothes that fit would be nice too. I had found a nice pair of lace-up black Army boots the week before. I left my IPod where the boots had been. I had just learned it was on the Devil list. It wasn't stealing that way. It was more like a trade. Plus they were living in a townhouse so they had to have money and more shoes. They could charge the IPod too. If they really needed the boots they wouldn't have left them out on the back porch to air out like that. The bad part was who ever owned them had athletes feet and now so did I.
The sword and the gun I had found by poaching. Poaching was a recent invention and I was not the sole practitioner of it. My version was to sit not far from my pond near the entrance of the big subdivision next to it. There was a dead end side road that had trees for shade where I could sit and watch the traffic coming in and out the main road for the place. The County Sheriff delivered the vacate notices around the same time every morning. A poacher followed them. If you knew the streets in the subdivision like I did then you could watch them and guess based on where they turned off where to look for them. Then I would hang back and watch the people get evicted. The weeping and wailing was sad. I knew how they felt. I had once lived here too until they came and knocked on my door. The Sheriffs were polite, efficient, and they were gone quickly. They had a lot of practice at this work.
The people? They usually waited until to the Sheriff Deputies left to get really angry. They would try running it on them when they came in and were informed that a cell awaited them if they didn't shut up. That usually chilled almost everyone out. After the Sheriff left they would stand around outside and yell, make cell phone calls, and load up some of the stuff in the car or cars and be gone. That's when I made my move. I wore a backpack and I didn't hesitate to load it heavy. My goal was canned goods usually. They were heavy but I needed to eat. Then what ever else caught my eye. I was also looking for stuff from the bathroom this time. I needed toilet paper, aspirin, and toothpaste. I had become pretty good at evaluating the boxes and hefty bags based on when they came out, what the family was composed off as far as age and nationality, and what they agonized over not taking when they bailed.
This time I was drawn to a box labeled "Dad's Stuff." I saw the boy, a White kid who was maybe 14 trying to convince his Mom to take it. She went ballistic. I didn't see any adult males in their family group so it wasn't hard to guess the back story. It got kicked to the curb like she had probably been. I went in fast after they left. Partially because I didn't want any neighbors coming out and giving me shit. The other reason was pride. I felt like a lowlife doing it. I stuffed the box the kid had wanted to take in my backpack first without looking at it. It was a fairly big box and it rattled. I ripped open some plastic trash bags with my pocket knife. No food. Some spices of which I took the pepper and salt. I did find my aspirins which was good. Everyday I woke up it seemed like something hurt in my body. Some days my back. Some days my teeth. Some days my head. Some days everything. Lately it was everything. I was in and out in 10 minutes and the trash bags looked like an angry raccoon had hit them. I tried to be neat and not litter but that didn't always work.