Chapter One – The Old Skillet
How do these mice live out here on the Old Skillet? Perhaps they aren’t mice. Maybe they’re what’s left of the coyotes, dried up canine scabs self trying to steal a little government issue before they take their sweetest surrender. I used to think those rodents could burrow down deep, and that somewhere miles down underneath were ancient Indian aqueducts.
This patch has always been a hard place, but it wasn’t always the Old Skillet. People started calling it that after the military put down a camp. According to mother, when the buzzcuts moved in to the valley, the whole of the area surrounding has gone from the pits to the shits. The temperatures have been up well about average so much so and for so long, we're thinking about setting newer averages, less hospitalible averages.
There’s something about all them buzzcuts humping around that turned this spot of heavenly desert into a damn dust bowl. Once they were done, they picked up most of their gear and left for points elsewhere. The only thing they occupy now is the old VA hospital. And even that has been practically decommisoned. No longer a medical facility more like a non founded rest home for veterans from the various desert wars.