Day of the Bomb (16 page)

“The county?” She abandoned the podium set up in
front of the council for public input and marched to the long table
that protected the council from her wrath. Her head spun back and
forth as she made certain all five members paid attention to her
every word. “The county seat is a good sixty miles from here. Why
should I have to go all the way there when the problem is right in
our own backyard?” Her forefinger jabbed at each member. The most
timid one flinched and cleared his throat.

“I have to head over there on business next Tuesday,
Mattie. I’d be glad to give you a ride.”

For the first time since the gavel had signaled the
start of the meeting, Mattie smiled. “That’s more like it. At least
one of you is civic minded enough to take pride in Madisin’s
outskirts. Mark my word. The way we’re growing it won’t be long
before we incorporate Jason Dalrumple’s property and far beyond it.
Then you’ll have to do as I say.”

***

Fred often attended such meetings, more for business
than civic reasons. Before and after them he would wander through
the audience to “make sure all your insurance needs are up to
date.” Because he was driving home from his three-week swing
through Texas and parts of the Southeast he had missed Mattie’s
fireworks. But Sally filled him on Mrs. Walengrad’s campaign to
beautify Madisin.

“Fred, you’re the only one Jason listens to.”

He gagged on his piece of toast. “To hear Jason tell
it, he listens to Thelma nonstop.”

“Very funny, wise guy. You are the only one he
respects enough to take advice from.”

“Oh? Then why did he only buy a $50,000 policy when I
told him he needed a $150,000 one? Now that his kid has been born
he needs that much. If Jason were to die today poor Thelma and
Stanley would be hurting without his income coming in. Why’s she
have to nag him anyway? He works his butt off for her and Stanley.
Isn’t that enough? What do you women want from us?”

“I know he does. But it’s like he’s obsessed with
working. Just like you are.”

“Maybe working is good for him. Listen, I had it
pretty damn easy during the war. None of the ships I was on got
torpedoed and sunk. That kamikaze plane killed a bunch of men when
it hit our deck but all I got was a few pieces of metal in my
legs.” He patted the scars left as reminders. “Jason? That poor
fool landed on one too many islands, okay? How would you like to go
ashore with shells and bullets flying so thick that if you stand up
a second too soon or too late you’re dead?”

Sally stared at the white-laced tablecloth.
“Actually, Thelma and me think it was Monkey Island that made Jason
go crazy. He was on that one for almost a year all alone.”

“Monkey Island? He never even talks about it to
me.”

“He does in his sleep.”

“Oh?” Fred put down his cup and leaned forward.
“What’s he say?”

“It’s all crazy talk. Thelma says it sounds like he
and Kong are acting out a movie.”

He picked his fork up and sliced a link of sausage.
“That’s all? I thought maybe he was talking to some Polynesian babe
that he had as a girlfriend there. Thelma should be glad.”

She grabbed the large cloth napkin from her lap and
hurled it at her husband. He ducked. Karl clapped at his parents’
antics. “You make daddy look like a clown, Mommy.”

Fred stood, retrieved the napkin, and handed it to
her. “Got to get going. I have an appointment at Mr. Gilmore’s
office. He’s thinking of offering his employees a health insurance
plan. Lucky for him Heartland is expanding into other lines. Wish
me luck.”

Sally followed him out the back door to the
unattached garage. “Please, Fred. Could you at least talk to Jason
when comes over tomorrow to give us a bid?”

He hesitated as the wooden door swung open and its
hinges groaned. The six-foot by six-foot piece of plywood missed
Sally’s head by two inches. “All right already. I’ll do it.”

***

Years later, Jason would swear that it was Fred’s
nonstop sales pitch that led to the fight.

“Now that you have a son you really need to raise
your life insurance policy to $150,000, Jason.”

“What for? I don’t plan on dying any time soon.”

“But what if you did? Your $50,000 policy would last
Thelma and Stanley ten years at most. If you factor in inflation a
$150,000 policy would take care of them for at least fifteen, maybe
even twenty years if they live frugally.”

Jason spun around and shook a tape measure at Fred.
“Will you shut up? I’m trying to work up a bid, you ninny.”

“Ninny? You’re the ninny, you dumb bunny. This isn’t
Monkey Island; it’s the real world. Grow up.”

Jason shoved Fred. “Ha! Big bad Ensign Rhinehardt!
You ain’t nothing but a sissy. Look how long it took me to get you
to go with me to take care of business with Darryl. All you had to
do was be the referee. It was me who beat the tar out of him. I did
it for both Thelma and Sally because you were too chicken, Momma’s
boy.”

Fred pulled his right hand past his head as it became
a fist. “I ought to…”

“Go ahead, Momma’s boy. You ain’t man enough.”

Instead, Fred lunged at his tormentor and grabbed his
neck with both hands. His vise-like grip stopped all air from
reaching Jason’s lungs. He fell backward, which pulled his attacker
on top of him. By the time the scuffle’s noise reached the attic
and Tim Dalrumple and Sally, Jason had passed out. When they
reached the fight Jason’s face was shades of purple and blue. It
took both of them to pull Fred off of Jason. Tim lifted his son to
a sitting position and pounded on his back as Sally slapped
Fred.

“I told you to talk to him, not kill him.”

Fred’s head bobbled. “Huh? What are talking about? I
was just giving that Jap what he deserved is all. It was payback
for all our ships his damn torpedoes sunk.”

Sally threw up her hands and retreated toward the
shade behind the garage. “You’re crazier than he is.” She screamed
as tears soaked her cheeks. “Sometimes I wish both of you were
still off somewhere in your uniforms. You men always got nothing
better to do but fight and die. It was that way for my mom. Dad
went off to two wars.”

Jason’s body convulsed as fresh air seeped back into
his deflated lungs. “Is that you, Dad? What happened?”

“I was minding my own business looking at the attic
with Sally when we heard something that sounded like two tom cats
spitting and clawing at each other. So we hightailed it on down
here and found Fred choking the life out of you.”

“Oh. Yeah, now I remember.”

“Did you start it?”

Jason turned away from his father’s piercing brown
eyes. “Uh…”

“I thought as much.” Tim moved his son’s head from
his lap to the softness of Kentucky bluegrass and weeds. “Sally?”
He walked over to the lawn chairs by the garage. Her face was
buried on her knees. “I want to apologize, Sally. It was Jason’s
fault.”

Tim’s features looked blurry through the last of her
tears. “Jason’s fault?”

“Yeah.” Tim squatted next to her favorite chair. “I’m
afraid it’s nothing new. The whole time Jason was growing up he
would tease his older brothers until they would start wailing away
on him. Looks like Jason never learnt his lesson, I reckon. Now
that John is in heaven and Leroy is living up in Detroit Jason
doesn’t have anybody to try and get their goat. Looks like he tried
to get Fred’s goat for the first time today.”

“But that still doesn’t mean Fred should kill
him.”

“I know. Let’s let them straighten things out while
we go back up into the attic and figure out how best to make it
into a bedroom for that little one you got tucked away in the
oven.” He pointed at her round midsection, which looked as if it
carried a bowling ball.

She smiled. “Okay.”

Tim hooked Fred’s arm and dragged him to Jason, who
was wobbling his arms as he stood. “Okay, Jason. Rule number
one?”

“Time is money.”

“Rule number two?”

“No fighting on the job.”

“Good. I was afraid maybe Fred might have choked the
little bit of wisdom out of you that I’ve spent decades trying to
put inside your head.” He patted his son’s grass filled hair. “You
two go on inside and have a cool drink of water and settle your
differences. Then get your skinny little butt back out here and
finish measuring up under the eaves like I told you to do.”

“Yes, sir.”

Fred waited until they were seated at the kitchen
table before speaking. “I’m sorry, Jason. I don’t know why I
snapped like I did. I thought you were a Jap.”

Jason rubbed the bruises on his throat. “It was
because I tried to get your goat. Dad’s right. I always was a
troublemaker. I guess that’s why I liked Monkey Island so much.
With nobody else around I was able to stay out of trouble for a
change.”

The rest of the morning was spent with husband and
wife trying to verbalize what they wanted while the two craftsmen
listened, conferred among themselves, and envisioned whether their
customers’ wishes were doable. It was noon before Tim could talk
them down to reality.

“Look, folks. If we take off the roof and put on a
second story then we have to put a whole new roof back on.”

“How much would it be?” Sally folded her arms.

Tim shrugged. “I can’t give you an exact figure until
I price out the lumber, shingles, wallboard, doors, and everything
else. But it would be in the range of $4,000 to $7,000, depending
on how many windows you want and how much of a pitch you want on
the new roof.”

“But $4,000 is more than Fred makes in a year!” Sally
walked away from them and stared at the roof.

“Look, I know she had her heart set on having a
bedroom and sewing room added on,” Tim said. “How much can you
afford?”

“Only about $1,500.” Fred blushed. “With the new baby
coming and all the tires and gas I buy to sell insurance we can’t
go any higher. Sally stuck it out the factory as long as she could
but the doctor told us she might lose the baby if she kept working
there. And she’s staying home once it’s born. Maybe we should just
build one of those bomb shelters instead. At least I could dig up
the ground for it.”

Tim rubbed his chin. “No way you can put the new
little one’s crib in a bomb shelter. First things first. You all
need more space, simple as that. There’s only one way we could do
it for $1,500 but it would mean keeping the old roof on. Nothing
wrong with that though. The shingles are still good for eight,
maybe nine years.”

“Keep the roof on?”

“Yeah. We’d cut through the rafters a section at a
time and raise the roof with jacks. Then we could support the
raised section with three-foot long four by fours. After we get the
exterior boards nailed off on the raised section we’ll just move on
to the next section and do the same thing all over again. Another
thing is we won’t put in the interior walls just yet. You can have
just one big room until you’re ready for the interior walls to be
added later on. The rate you’re going you’ll probably end up with
more than just two kids.”

Fred shrugged. “You really think you can do it for
$1,500?”

“Let me price it on out at the lumber yard. I’ll call
you back as soon as I can put the numbers down on paper.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Fred shook the contractors’
hands.

“Sorry about getting your goat, Fred. I won’t do it
again.” Jason stared at his feet.

“Thanks for not being sore about me choking you.”

***

Tim waited until Jason had pulled his truck in front
of the farmstead to invite him inside. Jason studied the forty
acres of farmland that surrounded the house in which he had been
born. “How come you don’t have the fields plowed up yet?”

“There was a fog last night. That means there’s going
to be a frost in May, which means I won’t be planting until after
that frost which means I can let the soil sit and rest a spell.
I’ll plow it up the end of April.”

“Oh.”

Tim led his son to the nine-foot long dining room
table and pointed at the map of the world spread out on it. “What
do you see over that direction?” His hand swept westward from Wake
Island and stopped on China.

“Monkey Island.” Jason pointed at the specks labeled
Marshall Islands. “Only they probably don’t show it on here since
it’s so small. But it’s right about there.” His finger tapped where
his dreams, night and day, took him.

Tim groaned. “You ever hear about living in the
past?”

“Nope.”

“Well, you got a real bad case of it.”

“I do?”

“Yeah. Son, the war’s over and done with. You best
start thinking on the next one because most likely you could end up
in that one too.”

“What do you mean? I thought that United Nations
they’re starting up was going to stop all the wars.”

“Fat chance. Look again.” His hand covered China on
the map.

“China? What they got to do with us?”

“Plenty. Look, they fought against the Japs for about
ten years. Now some guy named Mao wants to take over. He’s a
commie. If he does take over he’ll have a country that’s been
destroyed by war.”

“That’s his problem.”

“Son, they got more people in China to feed than
anywhere else. He’s going to have to go in to some other country
next door to him and make those folks hand over what they
grow.”

“You sure about that?”

“Who knows? All I’m saying is you could end up off at
another war before too long.”

“Sure hope not. There probably isn’t any other place
like Monkey Island for me to hole up in again.”

“In the meantime, you best be watching your
back.”

“Huh?”

“The word’s out that Darryl is still sore at you and
talking about how he’s going to get even with you.”

Jason stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know what he’s
talking about.”

“How big is Madisin?”