∀ᴚOOq

My neighbor was leaving for vacation and said, "Hey, hold down the fort while I'm gone." I did not know this was a figure of speech. I am a samurai. A fort is a fort. I made a perimeter map. I checked the fence line twice a day, at dawn and at dusk. I memorized the delivery truck's schedule. I identified the enemy. It was a raccoon. We engaged three times. I will not say who won. On the fourth night, a storm came. A fort is weakest in a storm. So I stood watch on his porch from 9 PM to 2 AM, in the rain. His security camera saw me. His wife, who had not left yet, called my phone. "What are you doing?" "Holding down the fort," I said. There was a long silence. "Do you... want a flashlight?" She brought me a flashlight and a thermos of coffee. She did not laugh. She said, "The fort thanks you." When my neighbor came home, I handed him a full report. Fence secure. Deliveries normal. Raccoon situation ongoing. He read the whole report standing in his driveway. Then he straightened his back, looked me in the eye, and said: "Well held, soldier." Now, whenever anyone on our street goes on vacation, they come to me first. They say the words formally, like a transfer of command. "The fort is yours." I accept. I have held down eleven forts. Last week, I found a badge in my mailbox. The neighborhood had made it for me. It says FORT COMMANDER. I did not ask for this rank. I will not give it back. I wear it on patrol.