* * *
In Home Country, there was no sense of quietude about the Quiet Man. Under the house, he dug a foxhole - a shallow, lie-down sort of a foxhole with ramparts, just deep enough so when he lay in it, no part of him could be seen. Then he snipped away bits of the surrounding vegetation, just enough to allow clear one-way vision. He ran an extension cord and set up a pair of spotlights that could be turned on from upstairs. He spread the broken pottery more evenly about the shade house floor, so no one could approach unheard.
His wife spent her day tracking his movements and gently remonstrating.
“What’re you doing, Nev’?”
“Just a few adjustments to the perimeter, Teen’. Feeling good. Been inactive too long.”
“That’s great! That’s great. But you don’t need to do this, you know. This is . . . I mean, you’re home now. We’re all safe here. No need to . . . !”
“No, no! Sure! ‘Course not! Listen, what’s for lunch? Why don’t you go see to that and I’ll be up shortly, okay? Where’s Nev’? He up there with you?”
“Uh, no. He’s not with me. I wanted to keep him in but . . . he got it in his head to look for Ava again and I thought that would be better than . . . ! You know, what you’re doing here is a little bit scary!”
“Ava’s gone?”
“Yes. I told you. A few days now. Just gone walk-about, I expect. I’ve put up posters and spoken to the neighbours. I’ll check the pound today. I’m sure she’ll turn up. But you know Nev’. Single-minded as the day is long. He wanted to look again so I let him.”
“Is that wise, Teen? I mean . . . the neighbours . . . !”
He flicked his eyes toward Rahimi Island and she said, “They’re just neighbours, Nev’. All good, caring people. No one would let anything happen to our boy.”
She went back upstairs to make lunch. And Neville the More carried on with his preparations, muttering, “They’ve taken Ava. That means they’re close. Boy should be near at hand, that’s all I’m saying.”
* * *
In the Duchy of Daisley, Ralph and Enid heard Riff’s thunderous attack on their fence and they smiled, knowing it to be a fence of integrity. They heard Dennis Shoomba, banging and buzzing under his house and smiled again, thinking of the troubles people bring on themselves by their long-term tolerance of disorder.