Next World Series (Vol. 3): Families First [Second Wind]

by Ewing, Lance K.

“I did before,” she replied.

  “Press this button,” he showed her, and as she did the 70-inch television turned on, showing a black screen.

  “That’s not possible!” she said, staring in amazement.

  “Now this button,” he showed her, opening the DVD slide.

  Setting the disc carefully inside, he closed it with a finger. Moments later, the large screen was filled with the opening title of the nearly 30-year-old movie.

  “Sissy! Sissy!” said Jonah, pointing at the screen. “Look! It’s Andre the Giant and the Montoya man.”

  “Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” Mel said out loud, spouting a popular phrase from the classic movie in his best Spanish accent, realizing too late it’s exactly what happened to their dad.

  “Oh, forgive me,” he said to Katie, with a face that said he was truly sorry.

  “It’s OK, Mel. It happens to be my favorite line in the movie, followed by Wesley saying, ‘As you wish’ to the Princess Bride.”

  “Is it true?” Jonah asked her.

  “I think so,” she replied, smiling at Mel. “If you can make popcorn, we will stay.”

  Tammy came back inside as the first smell of microwave popcorn wafted through the small three-bedroom, two-bath house.

  “So, you bribed them?” she asked Mel in a whisper, looking at the packed belongings on the floor.

  “Yes, I did,” he replied, “and I’m not ashamed of it. They have had a tough time, and she needed to see that an adult could keep their word. I have done that today, and we have at least one more night with them under our roof.”

  “I’m proud of you, my sweet Mel,” she said. “You stepped up again today, like you always do. In another life, we could have ruled New York City together.”

  “Oh, you know it, babe,” he replied, putting his arm around her as they watched their children lost in the opening scenes of their favorite movie.

  Mel slipped out to talk with the rest of the group about Katie’s outburst and them wanting to leave. He didn’t want Mike and Sheila to think he was trying to bribe the kids to stay with them.

  Sheila had little Javi up and about, with Veronica getting the first introduction, as promised.

  Mel pulled a few of us aside, including Mike and me, along with David and Lonnie. He explained the movie and popcorn, hoping they would understand.

  “I get it,” said Mike. “No worries, my friend,” putting his hand on Mel’s shoulder. Mike had come to like Mel, having an appreciation himself for a willingness to get in harm’s way and still get things done.

  “I think it’s just God’s plan,” said Sheila, overhearing the conversation, with Javi in her arms. “These children need a home, and we all need these children. Mike and I will take care of Javi, and I know you and Tammy will be great parents to Katie and Jonah.”

  Mike nodded in agreement and smiled.

  “As long as you can keep them here,” said Lonnie.

  “Don’t worry about that,” replied Mel, grinning now with the realization that he would be a parent after all these years.

  “Thank you, Sheila and Mike; you have no idea how happy this will make Tammy.”

  That’s two good things I’ve done in as many days, Lord, thought Mike. If he was honest, it felt pretty good.

  Javi was making friends quickly as he opened up, seemingly more each hour. He told of his experience in the river and proudly showed his bullet-grazed arm.

  “Mike is going to teach me to swim in the lake,” he added excitedly.

  He was referring to the lake where David and Mel reunited only a short couple of weeks ago, and members of both groups had been using it to bathe every two to three days.

  “Every child should know how to swim,” said Mike aloud. “Anyone else need to learn?” To his surprise, nearly half of the children, and a few adults, raised their hands.

  “OK. OK,” I interjected. “Keep your hands up for a minute. All right, now lower your hands if you do not want to learn to swim in the next week or two?” Only one hand lowered.

  “Mom?” asked David, surprised Beatrice’s hand was still raised.

  “What, son?” she asked. “Am I too old to learn a new skill?” The kids cheered her on, and the rest of us followed.

  “Well, I guess not,” replied David.

  The list of students grew, as some wanted a refresher course. Eight adults, including myself and Joy, were tasked with helping to teach, with Mike in the lead.

  “We will spend one hour learning or improving our swimming skills each afternoon, after working on the greenhouses,” said Lonnie.

  Katie and Jonah were in kid heaven. Katie reconsidered her opportunity for them both here and was worried Mike and Sheila would be upset that they wanted to stay with Mel and Tammy.

  “Is this the only movie we have?” asked Katie to an attentive Mel.

  “No, we have a lot more,” he remarked, opening the TV cabinet, revealing the rest of the formidable list.

  “We never expected a movie and popcorn,” she told him, “and I knew you wouldn’t have pizza.”

  “Just you wait until next Friday,” he told her, both judging her reaction to staying another week and because he knew he could deliver on the promise again, and this time including the pizza!

  “OK, OK,” she said, after a whispered conversation with her little brother. “We’ll see about next week.”

  “Yes!” replied Mel loudly, raising his right arm in a victory stance. Tammy looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

  “It’s all good in the hood, honey,” he said, smiling. “We’ve got them for another week.”

  Katie and Jonah walked with Mel to see their friend Javi. Katie greeted him with a hug and a smile.

  “My new dad is going to teach me how to swim,” Javi said, beaming.

  “How’s it going with Mel and Tammy?” asked Sheila, hoping the answer was good.

  “It’s good,” replied Katie. “They have movies and popcorn, and they’re really nice.”

  “Are you OK about staying with them? I mean, you and your brother, of course, while Mike and I take care of Javi?”

  “I think that’s a good idea,” replied Katie. Jonah was agreeing with a head nod.

  “And Mike is teaching swim lessons if you’re both interested.”

  * * * * * * *

  Chapter Fourteen

  Raton Pass, New Mexico

  “Guys,” came the call on the radio from Jim.

  “We’ve got something on the ham that’s important. There has been a development with Baker and Ronna. Baker apparently offered Ronna the second-in-command position, and it didn’t go over very well. Ronna refused, as far as we can tell, and has been taken captive.”

  “That’s crazy,” I said aloud.

  “Oh no,” added Jim. “That’s only the beginning. Listen to this!”

  “Ronna called someone right before he was taken captive. I’m not yet sure who, but they are high up in the military, and he requested backup. Four helicopters, six all-terrain vehicles filled with troops, and two fricking tanks show up three hours later.”

  “For Ronna?!” asked Lonnie, not believing what he was hearing.

  “Yes, exactly—at least as far as Mark and I can tell,” said Jim. Mark nodded in agreement.

  “What happened?” asked Jake. We were all on the edge of our seats now.

  “I don’t know,” said Jim. “That’s the odd part. I hear a lot of chatter, but I still don’t know who’s in charge.”

  “The military is always in charge,” said Jake.

  “Stay on the radio, guys. Good job,” said Lonnie. “We need round-the-clock information about this. I want to know exactly what’s coming our way and when.”

  Perimeter locations for the greenhouses took up the rest of the day. With all pitching in, they were making progress.

  Freeze-dried Chili Mac was on the menu, along with a rabbit, thanks to an early afternoon hunt by Tom.

  “Do you thin
k the kids will eat the rabbit?” Joy asked me.

  “Absolutely! Just don’t tell them what it is.”

  Movie night was at Mel and Tammy’s, with another favorite—the 1985 cult classic Steven Spielberg movie called The Goonies. Every child got a bowl of popcorn.

  Mel held Tammy close. “This was a great day,” he whispered.

  “One of the best I’ve ever had,” she replied.

  Even Ringo and Mini enjoyed it, joining the kids spread out on the floor in the living room, quickly gobbling up random pieces of dropped popcorn.

  * * * *

  With the radio monitored through the night, there were various accounts of what happened between Ronna and Baker, with none sounding official or completely accurate.

  “This time, I’m going to ask someone about it when we check on Vlad,” I told Mike.

  Mike and Tom had the next two nights off of perimeter duty.

  The next morning was buzzing with talk of swimming lessons that afternoon. Nancy adhered a waterproof bandage to Javi’s arm and forbade me from entering the water above my knees.

  Nearly everyone showed up to swim after a long day of work. Mike started by defining basic strokes, including the crawl, breaststroke, sidestroke, backstroke, and if all goes really bad, the doggy paddle.

  “Mini likes the water but not Ringy,” observed Hendrix.

  “Aren’t they both labs,” asked one of the adults? “I thought all labs loved water.”

  “Maybe 50%, seems like,” added Katie, deciding to bring Jonah for some lessons.

  After 15 minutes of theory, there were 45 minutes of practice, with a few of the children backing out at the last minute.

  I did as instructed, and even sat in a chair on the shoreline with my new old crutches close by that David kept for years after his knee surgery.

  Joy, with the other adult helpers, was entirely in the water and counting heads with each passing minute.

  As a lifeguard in Southern California, I had a few rescues under my belt. The scenario for me and the other guards was typically the false sense of security when parents fit their child who cannot swim with improperly fitting safety wings, floats and vests. Even way before cell-phone days, the parents were completely distracted or disengaged, assuming the float device was foolproof.

  I was used to counting heads, but I used to sit high up on a tower, and now we were head-level with all of the swimmers. Each child did great, with all levels of expertise and manner of dress accounted for.

  Beatrice had never owned a swimsuit, but she managed with yoga leggings and a T-shirt. She always considered herself a gym rat, only the kind who worked out at home. Joy taught her how to float on her back in only ten minutes. “Dean would be so proud,” she told Joy. “He tried to get me swimming for years.” Floating peacefully on her back, she winked up at the sky, positive that he was watching her.

  I was feeling stressed for the first time in days, watching everyone, but it kept me on my toes.

  “OK, that’s all for today,” called out Lonnie at exactly one hour. There were groans, but only from the children.

  * * * *

  After dinner, we discussed the Ronna/Baker situation, with Jim and Mark having listened to the radio for the entire day.

  “This reads like an old soap opera,” said Jim, now letting Mark tell some of the story.

  “OK,” said Mark. “What we knew before has changed, but we’re not exactly sure why or how. It appears that after the military show of force, both Ronna and the Baker guy (who I think we all knew is not a real colonel) are working together with equal leadership powers. The military has left and Ronna is free—we know that for sure.”

  “As for the Ronna/military connection,” interjected Jim, “it’s still a mystery. They have to be using him for a bigger agenda is all I can come up with. The bottom line is that they are all still headed past here, just like before, and not much else has changed.”

  “In the old-world, this story would have gone viral,” added David. “An ex-coffee barista amasses a formidable group in just weeks and gains the backing of the United States Military.”

  “Just a few weeks ago, even a well-established country couldn’t do that so quickly,” I added. “Unfortunately, it does change things.”

  “How so? “asked Steve.

  “Well, with a small or medium-sized group just looking to pass through here, a show of firepower could be enough to keep them moving. Add in military backing, and we get outnumbered and overpowered quickly. I, for one, don’t want helicopters, vehicles, troops, and tanks pointed at our kids.”

  “What are you saying?” asked David.

  “I’m saying,” looking at Mike nodding his head in agreement, “that Mike and I need to take a trip to see the Colonel from the FEMA camp sooner than we had planned.”

  “How soon?” asked Joy, now clearly concerned.

  “Like tomorrow,” I told a shocked group around us.

  “No, no, no!” shouted Joy, with Sheila agreeing. “It’s too risky.”

  “What’s risky,” replied Mike, coming to my rescue, “is the thought of trying to defend the group, both of our groups, against the US Military.”

  I was a bit surprised to hear this from a guy who was always up for a fight, no matter what the odds. Then it hit me. He now had his own child to protect, and that changed everything for him.

  I spent that night talking with each of my boys and tried to explain why I had to leave. I silently gave us a 50-50 chance of pulling it off and a 60-40 chance of ever making it back alive.

  Joy wasn’t excited about the idea, by any stretch, but she at least understood it. After explaining why it had to be Mike and me, since we were the only ones having a good rapport with the Colonel, she understood.

  I was both nervous and excited about the trip. On the one hand, I may never see my family again. On the other, I felt that a private conversation with the Colonel could be eye-opening and reveal information that could be useful.

  I had read somewhere that when a new President is about to take office, they are quarantined for a matter of a few days and informed by the various government agencies, both public and secret, on all matters sensitive to private citizens.

  I thought, growing up, that it would be fun to be the President, just to find out about Roswell, New Mexico, and the possibility of alien life, or what really happened to JFK in Dallas by the grassy knoll.

  As I got older, I would hear people complaining about how President Bush spent too much time “vacationing” at his ranch in Crawford, Texas, or how much time President Obama spent golfing.

  Neither of these arguments ever got my vote, as I watched both Presidents age considerably in less than a decade. I knew full well that, regardless of whether they were in the White House, on a ranch, or a golf course, there was no vacation to be had.

  I always believed that, besides sleep (which I imagined was interrupted often), a so-called vacation would come with at least hourly updates and spur-of-the-moment decisions about both domestic and foreign conflicts, completely derailing any sense of a normal family getaway.

  The problem was, do we go back to Amarillo, where we saw the Colonel last, or go the shorter route to the FEMA camp in Trinidad and possibly find out information on Vlad at the same time.

  A look at the map made the decision easier. Amarillo was 230 miles back the way we came, and Trinidad was only 30 miles up the road. The question of the moment was how to get back across the river and safely to Trinidad.

  Mike and I were both up early the next morning, planning our next great adventure, with Joy offering to let Sheila and Javi sleep in our tent if Mike and I were gone more than one day.

  * * * *

  Packing light firearms, just as we did on the last trip with Vlad, neither of us wanted to lose any more than we had to for the group if things went bad. One AR-15, a pistol each, and 300 rounds between us would have to do.

  Loading what all considered now as Lonnie’s truck, we each had a backpac
k, in case we lost the truck. Packing my new old crutches, Mike would be doing all the driving.

  “You can take the backroads here,” pointed David on the map, “following the same route as James and Jason but veering back towards the highway in time to see if your group really has a lifetime pass on that side. It’s the only way to avoid the guys across the river.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” I told him, wanting to get started, as my leg was already hurting.