One Man's Island

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One Man's Island Page 35

by Thomas J. Wolfenden


  “You said it,” he agreed.

  She laughed at the name ‘Rifle’ for a town, and laughed even harder when they stopped in a town called ‘Parachute’ for lunch. Tim checked the engine and fluid levels, and topped off all the fuel from trucks abandoned at a rest area before heading out again, crossing into Utah shortly before sundown at a nameless rest area just across the state border. When they parked, Robyn looked over at Tim, and smiled.

  “I love you, Tim, and I love this! It’s one big adventure!”

  “Well, I hope we don’t have any more excitement,” he said dryly.

  “Where’s your sense of adventure, Daddy?”

  “I left it on the runway at Port Salinas airport in Grenada in 1983,” he said, shutting off the Hum-Vee and getting out, taking his rifle with him.

  Tim and Robyn had driven west on I-70 and picked up I-15 south, then Rt. 89 south near Zion National Park, entering Arizona the next day near Fredonia. They circled the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, down through the Painted Desert and the Navajo Reservation, and picked up I-40 heading west just east of Flagstaff. They followed that until they saw the signs for Williams, and took the exit. It took some effort, but when they finally found the development that was advertised on the brochure that Dawn Red Eagle had left on their windshield, they both thought they had found heaven.

  ***

  After only a fitful hour of sleep, Ensign Johnson pulled himself out of his bunk, got dressed and made his way from his cabin to the bridge for his first of many mid-watches. He met Suplee on his way there and they greeted one another.

  “So the skipper is on to us you think?” Suplee asked.

  “No, I don’t think so. I think it’s just because we’re not ‘team players’, is how he put it once.”

  “Nice. Now we’re stuck on this shitty watch forever!”

  Ensign Johnson just nodded in reply. They walked through the hatch into the red-lighted bridge, and everything looked eerie. Lt. Alphabits gave his report on course and speed, weather and the like. He wasn’t a bad officer, he was just caught up in the skipper’s bullshit. Johnson repeated everything to him, and let him know he was ready to take over, as did PO Suplee.

  “I have the conn,” Ensign Johnson said.

  “Mr. Johnson has the conn,” Suplee answered.

  At least they were still acting like sailors. Plus, he was getting a lot of experience in conning the ship. Suplee was at the helm, and Johnson walked over to the chart table and let out a whistle.

  “What is it, sir? I’m steering a course north by northeast. Where are we headed?”

  “You’re not going to believe this one, Suplee.”

  “The suspense is killing me, sir! Are we headed to San Diego maybe?” he said with a wistful smile.

  “Nope, guess again,” Johnson said, tossing the grease pencil back onto the chart, then walking over and flopping into the captain’s chair in disgust.

  “Where are we headed, sir? I haven’t a clue!”

  “Tahiti,” he said exasperatedly.

  “We’re not going to Midway? Oh for fuck sake!” Suplee cried.

  “I think the skipper thinks this is some Club-Med cruise, and he’s heading for an island paradise.”

  “How the hell are we going to find the parts and make the repairs we need in fucking Tahiti?”

  “You know, I might as well take a little walk back into the CIC and target a Harpoon right back onto us. It’d be a lot quicker, but with the same results.”

  “That would do it, sir. This is not the adventure I was promised by the recruiter. I think I’ll sue him for breach of contract.”

  “Didn’t you know that all recruiters lie their asses off to get you to join?”

  “Ain’t that the truth!” Suplee agreed. “Shit, sir, at this rate we’ll be on the bottom in no time.”

  “I know, and apparently the skipper either doesn’t know, or doesn’t care. I’m leaning towards the latter.”

  “This is no way to run a ship, sir. Just look at this shit. The whole fucking ship is a shambles. Half the crew, if you want to call them that, is stoned out of their minds half the time. Fucking goats and pigs and shit tied up on the decks. There’s Hindu shit all over the place, and the hangar deck has become a mosque.”

  “I know. I know.” Johnson rubbed his temples and thought that even as fucked up and unruly as McHale’s crew was in that old TV show, when the time came, he still had a squared away and shipshape boat, and his crew could handle things. But this? This was a complete and utter joke.

  “This tub is about to fall apart, and we’re headed to fucking Tahiti?” Suplee continued on his rant. “And look at this. Since we’re down to two turbines, we’re only making fourteen knots. It’ll take forever! At least back on Midway, that other tin can was tied up, and we could have scrounged her for parts!”

  “I told the skipper that. He’d have none of it.”

  “Has he at least forgotten about the nukes for a while?” Suplee asked, hoping the answer would be yes. One night as he lay in his bunk, he thought about Nakamura down there fucking around with them and one of them accidentally going off. The thought chilled him to the core, but then he thought if that really did happen, it’d be over very quickly indeed, and he’d never know what hit him.

  “No, he hasn’t forgotten them. He was talking to Nakamura earlier about them.”

  “Shit. I’ve always been a good guy, Mr. Johnson. I was even an Eagle Scout. Courteous, thrifty, kind and brave and all that other bullshit, and because I’ve been a good guy, always tried to treat others, the way I would want to be treated…”

  “Yes, go ahead and finish.”

  “Sir, I keep looking back into my past to see if there was anything that I did that was so terrible to deserve this bullshit.”

  “Believe me, I’ve done the same thing on several occasions,” he said, getting up to pour himself a cup of coffee. He was going to need it, he could tell. He poured a second cup, and handed it to Suplee.

  “Thank you, sir,” he said, taking the offered cup. “I think I’m going to need this tonight.”

  “That makes both of us,” Ensign Johnson agreed. “So now we’re off to the island paradise of Tahiti.”

  “That makes no fucking sense.”

  “I agree.”

  “Now what are we going to do?” Suplee asked.

  “We wait for our opportunity.”

  “When will that be?”

  “I don’t know, but I think we’ll know when the time comes. For now, we just do as we’ve been doing, and at least try to act like sailors in the United States Navy.”

  “I’ll try, sir. But it’s getting really, really hard.”

  “That’s all I ask, Suplee. Try.” Johnson walked out onto the wing bridge, and letting the cool night air hit him. At least at Midway he’d be closer to Hawaii and Pearl. Tahiti might be the far side of the moon for all that it mattered now. He looked for and found the Southern Cross, and wondered if he’d ever see the Big Dipper or the North Star ever again.

  PART TWO

  Chapter 17: Home Sweet Home

  It was the spring of the sixth year after The Event, and in the years since they’d moved in, Tim and Robyn had settled quite nicely into their new home. Tim was correct in his assumption that Robyn would grow up to be just as beautiful as her mother, and Robyn had blossomed into a strikingly beautiful young woman and had turned eighteen a few months prior. It was still cool in the mornings, and in some places in the forest where sunlight rarely reached, snow was still on the ground. Although it got cold and sometimes they’d have terrible blizzards, the snow didn’t stay around long in sunlit areas.

  It was warming up nicely, and it was another beautiful afternoon in northern Arizona. They were in town today, getting fuel at the Grand Canyon Railroad depot, where there was plenty of diesel fuel to be found. There was also an AZDOT depot right off I-80 that they could also get fuel from, so there was no fear of them running out anytime in the near future.


  After putting the last jerry can in the back of the Hum-Vee, Tim turned to Robyn and said, “So, what will we do for supper tonight?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we’ll do up the elk roast.”

  “And corn on the cob and baked potatoes?”

  “Sounds like a plan to me, Sar’ Major.”

  They were both wearing Army ACU’s and had M4 carbines slung across their backs. It had been years since they’d seen other people, but they each still followed a very simple rule: always be prepared for anything. They went to get into the Hum-Vee when Robyn stopped and looked up.

  “Dad, do you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” He looked puzzled. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “There!” she said excitedly.

  “Honey, I still don’t hear…” he stopped midway. “Oh, now I hear it.”

  It sounded like a lawn mower, only higher pitched, and it was running very ragged. It was coming from the northeast, and they stood and listened as the noise grew louder. In a few moments, a sight to behold popped over the pine-covered hill they were looking at. It was an Airlite with a wide red nylon delta shaped wing, and it looked like there were two people on it sitting side by side. The engine was sputtering and spitting, and sounded like it would quit at any moment. They stood and stared as it got closer, losing altitude. When it got right over them, both occupants looked down, and it made a wide turn, settling for a landing on the road leading towards the highway and out of town.

  “Well I’ll be…”

  “Dipped in dogshit!” Robyn finished for him.

  The Airlite taxied up to them and the engine sputtered and died. The occupants looked rather comical. The one on the right was wearing a green nylon flight suit, a leather helmet and goggles, like they wore in World War II. The passenger was dressed casually in jeans and a denim jacket, but he also had a leather helmet and goggles. They both got off the contraption, and for a moment the four of them just stared at one another. It was Robyn who finally broke the silence.

  “Hi! I’m Robyn, and this is my Dad, Tim,” she said, walking forward and offering her hand. The one in the green flight suit pulled off her helmet and a mass of dark red hair spilled out, and Tim caught his breath. She smiled, held out her hand and took Robyn’s.

  “I’m Holly, and this is Izzy,” she said in an accent that for the moment Tim couldn’t place.

  Her companion, who also took off his helmet, was an older, distinguished gentleman probably around seventy years old, with a great shock of snow white hair. He also smiled and held out his hand. Tim walked forward and shook both their hands and smiled.

  “Well, I sure am surprised to see you two!” Tim said, still looking at the woman. “Where’d you guys come from?”

  “Colorado. We’re headed for California,” Izzy said.

  “Flying to California in this thing?” Tim asked in amazement.

  “Aye, we were. But it’s not running right at the moment. I don’t know what’s wrong with it,” Holly said.

  “It’s probably stale gas,” Robyn said. “Gas goes stale after a while.”

  Scotland, Tim thought. That’s where the accent’s from. She looked very familiar too, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

  “Are you military?” Tim asked the redheaded woman

  “Aye. Well I was, that is. I was Royal Air Force. Flight Lieutenant Holly MacFarland,” she said, lieutenant coming out as ‘leftenant’.

  “You’re a long way from the UK, Lieutenant.”

  “That I am,” she said, looking around.

  “You’ll have to excuse us, we really haven’t seen any other people for quite some time,” Tim said, not being able to take his eyes off of the new arrival.

  “It has been a while for us too. We were beginning to think we were the last ones. I’m pretty surprised to see both of you here,” Izzy said.

  “It’s kind of a shock,” Tim said, scratching his head.

  “We were just heading back to the house for supper; you guys want to join us?” Robyn said cheerfully.

  “Well, I don’t know…” Holly said warily.

  “I’m sure these people are okay, Holly,” the older man named Izzy said cheerfully.

  “We’ve got plenty. It’s been a long while since we’ve had anyone to talk to, so you’re more than welcome,” Tim said, dropping his guard completely.

  Holly mulled it over for a few moments and consented.

  “Dinner sounds fine!” Holly said with a smile that would melt an iceberg.

  Tim motioned them to the Hum-Vee, mentally assessing the woman as she and Izzy retrieved their things from the Airlite. He figured thirty-eight or thirty-nine years old, but with her milky complexion and stunning green eyes, she looked ten years younger. She was about five-foot-five inches in height, and about one hundred twenty pounds, and that red hair… so much of it…

  Holly immediately tied her hair into a bun behind her head when she got into the Hum-Vee.

  Robyn saw Tim’s face and rolled her eyes. “Dad!”

  “What?” he said innocently.

  “You know!” she said, putting her carbine in the rack, before shutting her door.

  “A lot of firepower you two have there,” Izzy noted, growing wary, and Robyn turned to face him.

  “We’ve had some… incidents with some not really nice people in the past, so it never hurts to be safe,” Robyn told them.

  “I see. That makes sense. And the uniforms too, are you in the military?” Izzy asked, visibly relaxing.

  Again Robyn answered, and let Tim drive. “Me, technically no, but my dad swore me in about a year ago. He taught me everything he knows,” she said, tapping Tim on the shoulder. “Daddy, on the other hand, is a Sergeant Major. He’s a real war hero!”

  “I’m not a hero, Robyn,” Tim said sheepishly, looking at Holly in the rearview mirror. It was still nagging him. There was something very, very familiar about this lady, and he couldn’t help but think her beauty was breathtaking.

  “Yes, Holly and I have had the same encounters, thankfully it was from a distance and we mostly hid from them.”

  “Good idea. That’s what we tried to do mostly. But one time it was unavoidable,” Tim said, turning off the main road and heading south on what was now almost a dirt track, the asphalt deteriorating to the point of becoming weed strewn gravel.

  “These guys, they took me, and Daddy here came and got me,” Robyn said. “He’s my hero.”

  “Yeah, well. Anyway, where in Colorado did you guys come from?” Tim asked, changing the subject.

  “Durango. I was an exchange officer at NORAD when it all happened. I met up with Izzy and his wife about a month afterwards.”

  “Yes, my wife and I both survived, but unfortunately she died a few years ago,” Izzy said sadly. “She had cancer. Nothing I could do really.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Izzy,” Tim said.

  “It was sad, but she passed quietly in her sleep,” he said, the pain still evident in his voice. “So tell me, Tim, you two aren’t from around here I take it. From the Keystone patch on your uniform, I’m guessing Pennsylvania?”

  “Yes, sir, 28th Infantry Division. I’m from Philadelphia. Timothy Flannery of the Philadelphia Flannerys, at your service, sir!” he said, ending it in a passable Irish accent. When he said that, he could see Holly in the rearview mirror sit up a little.

  “And I’m from West Virginia,” Robyn added.

  “But how is that pos—,” Izzy went to ask, and Robyn cut him off.

  “Oh, Tim’s not my real dad. I just adopted him,” she said giggling, and went on to tell the story of how they first met.

  “Very impressive. So you two have been through a lot, and a lot of travelling too,” Izzy said.

  “Yes, it’s why we were very happy to find this place,” Tim said, turning off the small road onto what looked like a wagon trail through a thick stand of Ponderosa Pine. “I think you’ll like it!” Tim added as they came out of the copse of t
rees into a large meadow, and the house appeared. It was an impressive two-story log cabin. There was another Hum-Vee parked in front, and Izzy could see a large barn and what looked like a greenhouse in the back. There was a huge wraparound porch that was stacked almost all the way around with cut and split firewood. A tall flagpole with the Stars and Stripes flying proudly capped off the picture.

  The view took both Izzy’s and Holly’s breaths away.

  “And here we are, home sweet home,” Tim said, putting the Hum-Vee in park and shutting off the engine. They exited the vehicle, and looked around.

  “Tim, I’ve got to say…” Holly said, looking at him with a perplexed look.

  “Go ahead,” Tim said.

  “I feel that you and I have met before, but I can’t place where,” she said, looking slightly perplexed.

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Tim said.

  As he was about to say something more, Robyn came up to Holly and grabbed her hand. “C’mon! I’ll show you around!” They both disappeared up the porch steps and into the house.

  Tim shrugged and looked at Izzy. “So, I take it you’re not originally from Colorado yourself?”

  Izzy laughed. “No, I’m originally from Bensonhurst, New York. Isador Ginsberg. My parents were Hassidic. You would have thought the world was coming to an end when my mother found out I was going to Annapolis. I didn’t fulfill her wishes to become a doctor until after I left the Navy. I retired to Colorado several years ago.”

  “I know the feeling,” Tim said. “Come on, I’ll give you the nickel tour.” They walked into the house, and Izzy was blown away. There was a huge fireplace constructed of river rock, with an equally huge elk head with a huge rack over it, a massive flat screen TV and stereo system, even a desktop computer on a desk. There were black leather couches and two easy chairs in the high ceilinged room.

  Izzy let out a whistle. “This place is fantastic!”

  “Be it ever so humble,” Tim said.

  “Does all of this work?” Izzy asked incredulously.

  “Yeah, everything works. It’s completely powered by solar and wind too, with a backup diesel generator in the barn.”

 

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