Renewal 5 - an Untimely Fall

by Jf Perkins

  “Well...” George began, folding his napkin across his plate, “I guess we’d better get to business.”

  “Lucy, would you mind keeping the little ones busy for a few minutes?” Mom asked.

  Martha pointed to a doorway right behind her. “There are some games on the shelf in the living room, Lucy. We used to play with our grandbabies, and just never got rid of them.”

  “Ok,” Lucy replied and wriggled free of her space at the table. “Come on boys. Maybe you’ll let me win this time.”

  With the sensitive young ears out of the room, George spoke freely. “Ok, this is the strangest weather I’ve ever seen, and I’ve lived here most of my life. I’m a little worried, I don’t mind saying.”

  “Yeah, George. I think it’s the beginning of a nuclear winter. All the explosions and fires have kicked tons of dust and soot into the atmosphere. It’s blocking a lot of sunlight until it settles out.” Dad said.

  “We’ve been ignoring the radiation. Is that going to be a problem?” George asked.

  “I’m not sure, but from what I’ve read, the answer is: It depends.” Dad shrugged. “If the bombs were high yield, relatively clean bombs, then we’re probably ok. If we were close enough, or downwind close enough to the blasts, we would probably already be dead, so I’m going to assume that we dodged that particular bullet. The truth is, there’s not much we can do about it anyway, unless you have a bomb shelter hidden around here.”

  “I guess we’ll just have to take that part on faith,” George replied with uncertainty.

  “Yes. I think we’ll have to focus on the problems we know, and hopefully problems we can solve.” Dad said.

  “What problems?” George asked.

  “Shelter. Food. Water. The cold.” Dad swept an arm to indicate the rattles of the wind on the old panes of glass.

  “How cold do you think it’s going to get?” George asked.

  “I think it’s going to get very, very cold. Maybe for a very long time.” Dad said grimly.

  “Well, I guess we have our work cut out for us then.”

  Chapter 5 – 9

  Bill’s second day of humiliation came after a long argument with Charlie, in which Bill insisted that he needed to get home, and Charlie responded with entirely reasonable objections about the fact that Bill still couldn’t walk. The compromise came when Seth pulled their armored pickup into the sheltered entrance to the hospital. Steady rain had begun before dawn, and Bill suffered the spectacle of being wheeled out into the soggy day on a gurney, and dumped into the bed of the truck with all the ceremony of a dead deer. That was his perspective, but anyone else would have focused on the crowd that gathered to offer him a hero’s sendoff.

  John tried to keep his young men in line, but the throngs of women were not doing anything to promote his idea of unit discipline. He finally dragged Rob and Nick into the truck bed with Bill, threatened Jeffry until he sat up front with Seth, and left the level-headed Terry to deal with the people. John was a self-avowed wallflower in social situations, and was happier to hide in the back of the truck until their police escort arrived.

  The shouting and cheering crowd was overridden by the diesel roar of three Big Bertha-style trucks that pulled into the circle, and hissed to a stop in a defensive configuration around Bill’s truck. Ten police officers poured out of the first and last armored truck, and Charlie swung down from the second Big Bertha in line, leaving the Teeny Town truck third in line. The officers lined up in ceremonial fashion behind Bill’s truck. Charlie stepped up into the truck with Bill and stood on the lowered tailgate to address the crowd.

  “Hi folks. Clearly you all know why we are here,” Charlie said and waited a full thirty seconds for the cheer to subside. “Without getting into all of the details, I’d just like to say that these fine men, under the command of Bill Carter...” Another pause for cheering while Bill mumbled under his breath. “Have delivered more justice to the State of Tennessee in the past week than most us will do in an entire career.”

  “Exaggerate much?” Bill said, loudly enough to trigger some laughter.

  “Hush, Bill. Take an aspirin,” Charlie replied in a stage whisper.

  He switched back to his speech voice. “In order to express our appreciation for the fine work these gentlemen have done, I would like to present them with the gift of Big Bertha, with our heartfelt thanks, and to wish them good fortune on their next mission to deliver another enemy of the state into the arms of justice.”

  The cheering that followed was enough to cover the shocked expressions on the faces of Bill’s crew, and the surly conversation he had with Charlie.

  “What the hell, Charlie?”

  “Hey, old man. You know as well as I do that this ceremony needs to happen. The people need an occasional hero. It keeps them happy on the straight and narrow.”

  Bill acknowledged the point with a nod, and said, “Yeah, well, it’s easy for you. You’re not tucked in the back of a truck with a blankie.”

  “Just see it from their point of view and enjoy it. It’s a good day.”

  “Oh, all right,” Bill said, coming as close to a pout as he could get.

  The cheering retreated to a dull roar, as Charlie held up the keys to Big Bertha, and dangled them in front of the crowd. Then he gracefully handed them to Bill, spurring another round of jubilation. Bill held them long enough to do his part in the show, smiled, and handed them off to John as if they were red hot. John’s hand didn’t even pause as he tossed the keys to Terry, who snagged them and turned to face the crowd with a red-faced grin. The police blew a whistle and performed a unit salute to Bill and his men. They had to rush it in order to control the crowd, which was threatening to trample Terry in their excitement.

  Finally, the police marched back to their trucks in the front and back of the four-truck convoy and mounted up. Bill huffed in relief as he felt the engine clatter to life underneath him. Charlie leaned over Bill and quietly said, “My personal thanks are in the back of your new truck. Thanks for saving my boy.”

  “That, I’d do any time, Charlie. Thanks for your help with the Judge.”

  “That, my friend, is you helping me. In the long run, I’d like to see this state turn into a safe place to live. You wouldn’t believe it, but you are my best partner in that effort. I’ve got your back.” Charlie declared, patting Bill on the shoulder as he turned to leave. Just before he dropped off the tailgate, Charlie Bell turned with a devilish grin and launched his parting shot. “Enjoy the ride, Bill. Enjoy the ride.

  Terry was thankful that Big Bertha had similar controls to the one vehicle he had ever driven. Beyond that, he was sure he would make a mistake. He turned to John, who had taken the shotgun seat with a directive from Bill to keep Terry between the fence posts and out of trouble. “Are you sure you want me to drive this thing?”

  “I’m too sore to drive. Besides, ask anyone. You earned this prize more than the rest of us. As far as I’m concerned, it’s your personal ride,” John said, with characteristic seriousness.

  “Ok, John. It may be my truck, but it’s your ass. Here we go.”

  Terry turned the key and marveled at the power throbbing under his command. The lead truck pulled away slowly, giving the swarm time to flow out of the way. Terry shifted into gear, and eased his foot down on the gas pedal. He could feel a faint jolt from the fuel sloshing in the tanks, and then he was moving smoothly along, driving Big Bertha like someone with at least three more drives worth of experience than he could actually claim. The big side mirror showed him the last view of the happy crowd as he pulled out onto Tennessee Boulevard.

  The catch was that it took them over an hour to leave the city. Charlie, the bastard, had arranged a parade with the convoy as the main and only attraction. Bill was trapped in a rolling circus, forced to listen to thousands of screaming people lining the exact winding route Charlie had planned. Bill’s state of mind made it impossible to understand why they would stand out in the rain just to watch them rol
l by, but deep down inside, he knew. There was so little to cheer in the world; anything would do. When they finally left Murfreesboro, and the houses parted into wet green fields, Bill had exhausted every bad word he knew – twice.

  Chapter 5 – 10

  Rolling east on Highway 41, Terry finally began to relax in his new skill, and freed his eyes from their death grip on the highway. He caught a glimpse of the truck bed over his shoulder, and asked, “Hey, John. What’s that stuff in the back?”

  John examined the load for a few seconds, and said, “It looks like was got some bonus prizes. At a guess, I’d say it’s a three hundred gallon fuel tank and some crates of bona fide military weapons.” He thought for a moment and added, “Dibs on any rocket launchers.”

  “Hey, I’m good. I got a truck,” Terry replied. “Besides, we all know I can’t be trusted with guns.”

  “That’s true... Which reminds me, do these cops know about Larry’s road block?”

  “Yeah, we talked about it at the hospital. They’re going to let Seth take the lead when we get to Beech Grove, so we don’t frighten Larry off.”

  “That’s good because we’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  True to the plan, the convoy pulled off at a faded Citgo station at the top of the long, shallow slope into Beach Grove and had a quick conference next to Bill’s truck. They decided to let Seth drive up to the roadblock with Bill and most of the crew. The other trucks would stop a quarter mile short, and give Bill time to explain. At any sign of trouble, the three larger trucks would storm in with guns blazing. Bill was not worried. He fully expected to be welcomed by Larry and his sons.

  The Berthas fell into line behind Seth and followed him down the straight stretch. They could easily see that Larry and his boys were resting under the porch overhang on the south side of the highway, sheltering from the rain. They clearly spotted the approaching convoy and had a moment’s confusion in which they could be seen running for cover. As the big trucks stopped in the middle of the highway, and Seth drove on, Terry could actually see the body language change as the recognition of Bill’s truck kicked in. Terry had staggered his truck to the right in order to maintain a clear view of the roadblock.

  Seth pulled to a stop fifty feet short of the flatbed truck blocking the highway and waited for Larry to approach. Jeffry was ready to fire, just in case, but he was worrying for nothing. Larry and his boys walked over with rifles pointed at the ground, held in casual carrying positions, all smiles and waves. Larry had a moment of obvious concern when he saw Seth behind the wheel, but quickly recognized the big man from Bill’s party.

  “Hey fellas. Where’s Bill?” Larry asked with a worried look.

  Bill called from the back. “I’m back here, Larry. Come on around.”

  Larry circled the truck alone, leaving his sons in a position to cover him, just in case. He saw Bill laid up in the bed of the truck and gave his boys a downward wave to tell them everything was clear.

  “Bill! Shit, man. What happened?”

  “You should see the other guy,” Bill replied in a smug manner that suggested he had planned the response for hours. “Nah, we ran into a little trouble up the road and I dodged two bullets less than I should have. I’ll be ok.”

  “Sorry about that, Bill. I didn’t know it was still that bad.”

  “It’s fine up to Murfreesboro. We had to run an errand up in Nashville.”

  “Ah. I didn’t think people could go there anymore.”

  “Well, I don’t recommend it,” Bill said, waving his left hand over his reclining form. “Listen, I haven’t forgotten my promise to come check out your place and see what we can set up, but I’m going to have to come back later, for obvious reasons. Meantime, we brought some more food for your family, ok?”

  “Hey, I really appreciate it, Bill. You have no idea how much that food helps. My wife actually likes me again.”

  “Oh, I understand completely. Rob, we’re almost home. Give them the rest, except for our pack food.”

  Rob hefted the cloth sacks off the back of the truck. This time, Larry and his boys were strong enough to carry the heavy food bags back to their own truck. Larry set his boys to the task with another subtle wave.

  “Thank you.” Larry said, with a slight dip of his head.

  “You are welcome,” Bill said. “One other thing. Those guys up the road... they’re with us.”

  “Hey, don’t you worry. We’ll move our truck and keep going until we hit the dinner table,” Larry said with a happy smile. “Any man who can turn one truck into four can have whatever he wants, I always say.”

  “You say that, huh... I think I’ll borrow that one. Anyway, keep an eye out. We’ll be back. If it’s not me, I’ll give whoever comes out here a special code word. Let’s say, Bertha Bashing. If you aren’t sure, just ask and they’ll say that to let you know I sent them. I may be laid up for a while.”

  “Ok, Bill. Thanks again, to all of you,” Larry swept his gaze over the truck. “I hope you get back on your feet soon.” Larry held his hand up in a tally-ho gesture and waved at Bill one more time as he walked over to his truck, climbed in, and drove up Gossburg Road into the hills.

  ***

  Bill was tired from the travel. He was, in fact, thinking back to his hospital bed with some sense of wistfulness. There was one more task to complete, or at least to see to completion, before he could collapse into his own bed for a real night’s sleep. Jerry Doan Jenkins would finally have his date with ten state police, and justice.

  The truck convoy rumbled across the muddy ruts in the fallow field, heading for Teeny Town’s training ground and unofficial jail. The guard had immediately reported their arrival from the road. When the trucks crunched to halt among the dripping leaves of the forest, they encountered a full complement of the guard, centered on Kirk, who looked as calm, yet implacable as always. Seth had thoughtfully turned the truck to give Bill a decent view of the important section of the woods. Bill could see up into the trees, filled with young men and women tasked with watching the Judge and his single living man. He breathed deeply for a minute, focusing on the clear drops of water slowly releasing their hold on the low hanging leaves. He knew what was coming, and he would face it on his feet.

  Kirk made the connections quickly, and stalked over to his brother. “What happened?”

  “I got shot. Shit happens. I’m fine. Help me out of this truck,” Bill growled testily.

  “I can handle this, you know,” Kirk said.

  “I know, Kirk. You can handle damn near anything, but I arrested this prick. I’m going to hand him over.”

  “Alright then.” Kirk walked away.

  Bill thought Kirk was ignoring his request, but Kirk was complying with no explanation, in typical Kirk fashion. He walked around the truck towards the edge of the woods until he found a young dogwood. He drew his knife, a wicked curved blade, and lopped the sapling off with one lightning strike. He picked another point near the ground and sheared the wood again. Satisfied, he walked back to his brother, and simply dragged Bill to the end of the tailgate until he could rotate to his feet. Kirk handed Bill the cut sapling, which became a remarkably well-fitting cane. Bill gimped over to the line of his guards and signaled for the police to come out.

  Bill’s crew moved in close to protect their leader, and possibly to catch him if he fell, and the police made an impressive line at a respectful distance behind the local guard. Bill turned to Kirk, and ordered, “Bring down the prisoners.”

  “We only have one now,” Kirk said.

  “Which one?”

  “The important one.”

  “What happened to the other one?”

  Kirk turned to his right, and pointed to a lanky young man with reddish hair and a near total coverage of freckles, all-in-all the least threatening guard in the whole community. “Donny, you tell him. You had the watch.”

  “Well, sirs... uh, you see... The Judge was upset by the rain and demanded his man’s jacket. When the
man refused, the Judge had a screaming fit and shoved his man over the side. The man, Jerrod Cantrell was his name, fell head first and broke his neck. He was dead before we could get to him.”

  Bill looked at the young guard while he thought through the implications. Then he quietly said, “Very well. Thank you, Donny.”

  Donny almost folded with relief. Apparently Kirk had given the boy a serious case of the frights before Bill had arrived.

  Bill tilted his head back, winced at the pain of the slight motion, and called, “Thanks for the extra murder charge, Judge. That’ll make the trial so much faster.” He turned to Kirk. “Get him down.”

  One of the tree guards walked the bridge to the platform above the Judge, and kicked the rope ladder out and down past the Judge, who proceeded to ignore it.

  “Come on, Jerry. You’re pissing off all the nice state police,” Bill said.

  Nothing.

  “Oh, Jerry... I should point out that you are resisting arrest, which will make your ride back to Murfreesboro a great deal less comfortable. But more importantly, I have a number of options to get you down here, all of which are going to hurt you, and worse, scuff those shiny boots of yours.”

  Still nothing from the Judge.

  Bill said loudly. “Seth, I remember you saying you were unhappy to have missed some of the action a few days back. What would you say if I said there is a strutting peacock on that platform up there, and I will let you personally go up and escort him to the ground, however you see fit?”

  Seth played along with the most ignorant accent he could muster. “Boss, I’d love to go up there and beat that man until blood squirts out of his holes. That’d be real fun.”

  Still nothing.

  “Ok, Big Seth. Have fun.”

  Seth took two slurping steps before the shiny cowboy boots slid over the edge of the platform, and Jerry Doan Jenkins started the long climb to the ground. The tree guards raised rifles into position, but Bill looked up and shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to shoot his symbolic bid for law and order in Coffee County. They nodded acknowledgment.