I guess it would explain the crusty appearance of Andrews’s hair this morning and his determination to get a shower.
I knew Lincoln met Thomas Pendleton and his son, Seth, because Thomas told me. “Did you get the term from Thomas and Seth?” I asked.
Lincoln’s face changed as if someone threw cold water on him. “Well I’ll be darned … you know them? Where are they … are they here? They disappeared several weeks ago in the city and I haven’t seen them since. Please tell me they are okay.”
My somber expression and a single shake of my head was all the answer the former president required. “The accursed Gate?” he exploded.
I didn’t answer.
“Damn that man, damn that man to Hell!” Lincoln snapped. “I watched that vile man for a long time in the White House, even before he could watch me back. I always knew there was something sinister about him!” He paused for a moment as if something suddenly popped into his head. “How did Thomas …?” he asked, trailing off as if he already knew the ghastly answer.
“He was trying to save Seth,” I said.
“Damn that sadistic son of a whore!” Lincoln continued in an uncharacteristic rage. “How he ever became a general is beyond me. If he were on my watch I would bust him down so far, he could kiss his own ankles without bending over!”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Lincoln realized he put his proverbial foot in it. Regret etched his noble face. “I’m sorry, Mr. President,” Lincoln said. “I know what the circumstances were like for you … I didn’t mean anything by what I said. You are a good and honorable man and a good president.”
“No, you are absolutely right Mr. President; I should have done more,” he said.
The two men stood in uncomfortable silence for several moments. Finally, Lincoln broke the tension. He turned to me and extended his hand.
“I don’t think we have been properly introduced, I’m Abe Lincoln. You can call me Abe.”
I grasped his hand and flinched a little from the extreme cold of his touch.
“I’m Cecil, Cecil Major,” I said. I wasn’t about to tell him my real name and let him put two and two together. The president cut his eyes at me, however he said nothing.
The president’s heart was in the right place. He insisted that Danny and I keep our ranks. Unfortunately, he made one of the stupidest statements I have ever heard.
“He is a major in the Army too,” the president said. “I guess he’s like the character from Catch-22, Major Major.”
Lincoln did not understand the reference. That book was not published until almost a century after Lincoln was assassinated.
“We need to be getting back, Cecil,” Danny said. “We need to go over our evacuation plan.”
“I’m still not too keen on leaving the country,” the current president said. “Not when so much is going on.”
Lincoln was in complete agreement. He didn’t want to run away.
“Mr. Presidents,” Danny said, addressing both of them. “We’ve been over this, you can’t stay. It is far too dangerous.”
Danny stopped short of telling both men that they were irrelevant. Neither one of them wielded power anymore. President or not, they were now Impals … public enemy number one. There was nothing they could accomplish by staying, however, Danny did a very kind and decent thing. He gave both of them a purpose.
“The Impals we are evacuating will need guidance and leadership in their new home. I believe the two of you are the best ones to provide it for them.”
They agreed somewhat reluctantly. We excused ourselves to go back to the mess hall.
“I need you to do me a favor,” Danny said as we walked through the woods.
“What?”
“We are going to need all hands on deck when we evacuate the Impals. We also need to have some people left here to guard the camp.”
“Agreed,” I said.
“I want you to help me keep an eye on Andrews. We need him, but we also don’t need his hot head getting the best of him.” I nodded as Danny continued. “And I sure as Hell don’t trust leaving him here at camp unsupervised.”
“Definitely not with our families here,” I said.
Danny took a deep breath before he made his final request. “I want you to promise me the first time you see him getting even a little out of line, you’ll put him down. Put him down and then put the irons on his sorry soul.”
CHAPTER 14
1 TIMOTHY 4:1
“Integrity is the lifeblood of democracy. Deceit is a poison in its veins.”
~Edward Kennedy
I blinked, unsure if I understood.
“You want me to kill him?”
Danny glanced at the other side of the trail as if he heard something. After a few moments, he faced forward and spoke in a voice just above a whisper. “You didn’t see him last night … the rage in his eye. There was no remorse, no shred of any compassion; it was if he was filled to the brim with pure hatred.” He paused to wipe the sweat off his brow and then whispered, “He scared the crap out of me, Cecil, and you know I don’t admit that lightly.”
My heart skipped a beat. Danny was one of the toughest and most fearless men I have ever known. Even when we experienced combat together in Iraq, I never knew him to display an ounce of fear. The fact that a punk kid like Sam Andrews scared him was enough to throw up a dozen red flags in my head.
“Jesus … to think we have enough to worry about with my father and the rest of the government,” I said.
“Yep, and then we’ve got a ticking time bomb in our midst,” he said.
“So why the hell do you need him?” I asked, a little ticked off.
Danny sighed. “Because we need all the eyes and ears we can get for this venture and,” he shrugged his shoulders, “because Andrews’s brother owns the boats we need to evacuate the Impals.”
I felt my chest constrict. I forgot Andrews’s brother owned the boats. So, until the Impals were away; we needed Andrews, temperamental or not.
Danny stopped and grabbed my arm. “I always knew Andrews was a hothead. That’s one reason why he has been a lieutenant for years,” he paused and took a deep breath. “What I did not know until a few days ago is Sam Andrews is an alcoholic, a pretty bad one according to Burt.”
No further explanation was needed. We had a tough enough time providing decent food for the camp. Keeping a supply of alcohol was not only impractical, it was also impossible. I was certain that an alcoholic cutoff from the outside world would be going crazy about now. That, coupled with a short temper, presented a very dangerous combination.
“How long has it been since he had a drink?”
Danny shrugged. “I don’t know, he’s been here at least a week.”
Before I could reply, Derek Vandeputte emerged from the woods a short distance in front of us. The same hunting rifle he used in our makeshift funeral this morning hung over his shoulder.
“How goes patrol?” Danny called to him.
“Taylor and I ran off a couple of hillbillies up on the north ridge. I think they are running a still somewhere up there,” he chuckled.
“Do you think they were suspicious?” Danny asked.
“Maybe a little. We told them this was now a government controlled area and they needed to keep their distance,” Derek said.
“Do you think it worked?” I asked.
“Maybe not. That’s why I added the woods are littered with land mines. You should have seen their faces.”
Danny and I couldn’t help laughing at the mental image of a couple of slack-jawed hillbillies tiptoeing out of the woods.
“Derek, I’m going to need you and Taylor to be on guard duty next month when we take the Impals out,” Danny said.
You could see the frustration on Derek’s face. He wanted to be part of the action. I think my disappointment was every bit as obvious. We would be here until next month.
“It’s an important job,” I assured him. “There will be lots of family mem
bers here, including my own. I would be honored if you watched over them.”
In all honesty, I would feel more comfortable with Derek keeping an eye on my family. I liked Taylor, but his attraction to my daughter made me uncomfortable, as a father, and as a leader. We just couldn’t afford any distractions right now.
“I’ll take care of them,” he said with a boyish grin.
It suddenly struck me how young he was. That didn’t help my confidence. Nevertheless, Danny and I continued back to the mess hall.
“Next month?” I prodded. “When next month?”
He shrugged.
“Not sure … haven’t got that ironed out yet. Sometime in the first couple of weeks of October.”
Only a little over two weeks, I guess it wasn’t quite as bad as it sounded. Still … I was hoping it would be sometime in the next couple of days.
When we reached the mess hall, I was surprised to find Steff sitting on an old wooden bench outside the door. Her elbows were on her knees and her chin rested on clinched fists. She wore a disgusted scowl on her face.
“I’m sick of this crappy food!” she huffed. “Will you PLEASE take me to Martian Burgers? I know I saw one on the way in here!”
She was right; I noticed it last night on our way back from DC. There was a Martian Burger in a small town a few miles away. It seemed out of place because the only other things in this town were a gas station and a tiny Post Office. It sounded like a good idea to me, even though I knew we couldn’t. I had no cash, I’m sure my debit, and credit cards had been frozen or were being monitored.
“I’m sorry, honey,” I said. “We can’t risk using my cards. It’s too dangerous.”
Danny, who paused to listen to our conversation, reached into his pocket and retrieved a wad of folded bills. He peeled a single bill out of the wad and held it out.
“Here’s twenty bucks,” he said, “Take your daughter to lunch.”
“I-I can’t,” I stammered.
“Why not?” Danny asked.
“Well it wouldn’t be fair,” I said, pointing to the mess hall. The sounds of conversation and the smell of some type of fried meat wafted through the door.
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Danny said as he pitched me the keys to one of the SUV’s then turned and went inside.
I was left standing dumbfounded with twenty dollars and car keys in hand and an expectant twelve year old staring at me.
“Let’s go!” she said and began to lope towards the SUV’s parked across the road from the mess hall.
Like a man in a dazed stupor, I began to follow her.
It only took ten minutes to reach the small hamlet with a Martian Burgers resting at the crossroads of two state highways. Steff was silent the whole way there, staring out the window. I knew she was just ignoring me. I remembered when she was little, which was only a few years ago, we couldn’t go anywhere without her talking my ear off. A tear slid down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away. Where had my little girl gone? I believed she was still there underneath all the preteen hormones and attitude. Underneath her anger at me, I believed she was still there. I needed to figure a way to coax her back out.
“Do you remember when we went to Disney World?” I asked as we descended the mountain into the small town.
She shrugged and kept her gaze fixed out the window. Our trip to Disney World was our best family trip ever, according to Steff, and I don’t think I have ever seen her happier. When we got off the ride ‘It’s a Small World’, she turned and wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed as hard as she could.
“Thank you, Daddy for bringing us here! I love you!” she beamed.
I will always cherish that memory.
“Well … maybe we can go back again when this is all over,” I said.
This time it did not even warrant a shrug; she continued to stare out the window. After what seemed like an eternity she spoke, her back still too me, addressing my reflection in the glass.
“Can Grandpa come?” she asked.
I felt like something slimy slithered down my throat. I knew why she asked the question, she has always been a grandpa’s girl. The absurdity of it caught me off guard. Even if this storm ended today and things went back to normal, my father and I would no longer have a relationship. In good conscience, I couldn’t let Steff have one with him either.
“Maybe,” I lied.
I knew things would never go back to normal. How could they? Countless relationships were destroyed. Multitudes of bridges were burned. Not to mention mankind’s beliefs had been turned on their head. No, normal would have a new definition when this storm was over, if it ever was.
We got to Martian Burgers without another word between us. As we pulled into the parking lot, it occurred to me that I did not told Barbara and Abbs where we were going. I’m sure Danny would tell them.
“Where were your mother and Abbs? Did they know we were leaving?”
She seemed a little more talkative once she smelled the aroma of grilling hamburgers drifting from the restaurant.
“In the ‘messy’ hall having a fine meal of fried Spam, I’m sure,” she said with condescension dripping from her voice.
I felt my frustration with her rear its ugly head inside me. I managed to tamp it down before it escaped into a regrettable outburst. Barbara and Abbs should be with us as well and I felt very peeved that I brought little miss attitude instead. She didn’t deserve any special treatment. I had to keep in mind that she was just a kid. She didn’t understand everything.
We went inside, ordered, and then took a seat by the large front window. Painted on the glass was a green, comical alien with a long red lolling tongue. I kept having the strange sensation as if he was trying to lick me. I slid the coin change across the table to Steff, which was our custom whenever we ate out. It started out as candy money, until her monetary earmarks evolved as she got older. We have been doing it since she was three years old. I guess old habits are hard to break. She snatched the coins, like a cat snagging a mouse, and slid them into her pocket. There was almost a dollar there. I didn’t think Danny would mind. Besides, I wasn’t going to ask for them back, not when I was trying to get on Steff’s good side.
It wasn’t long before I found myself lost in a world of ecstasy. After I took the first bite of my Flying Saucer Burger, I realized this burger truly was Out of this World. As I relished my meal, a strange idea occurred to me.
The irony of the situation began to sink in as I studied our fellow diners, everything appeared, well … normal. Aside from the lavender sky and yellowish clouds outside, one would never know that anything else was going on in the world.
People talked and carried on like always. Traffic flowed by as normal. The trash man emptied a dumpster across the street. A group of bicyclists cruised by wearing their spandex bike pants and matching color coordinated helmets. Across the highway, a man mowed his lawn. A noisy bunch of peewee football players came in to celebrate a victory. A police car waited behind a large hedge next door with a speed trap. Life went on as usual.
How could this be? Did these people not realize what was happening in the world? The title of an Edgar Allan Poe poem floated into my mind, A Dream Within a Dream. Though it was not completely fitting, it was more like these people were living a dream within a nightmare.
I felt my appetite slipping away. I put down my burger, took a sip of my ‘Take Me to Your Liter’ sized soft drink then pushed back from the table. I wanted to get up, to slap them awake, and to tell them to care. I knew it would be fruitless. People rarely pay attention to things they don’t believe affect them. I couldn’t convince them otherwise. My father has a lot bigger pulpit than I do, and he was being broadcast loud and clear over the restaurants radio speakers.
“The president is under the weather right now,” he told the female interviewer. “We expect him to be up and around very soon.”
“Not unless you accept Impals,” I mumbled.
“He has asked me to giv
e the American people and the world the assurance that everything is under control. He will be present at the United Nations conference in a few weeks to discuss the growing concerns over the Impal issue,” my father said, venom dripping from his voice when he mentioned the word ‘Impal’.
“Why isn’t the vice president making this announcement?” the interviewer asked.
“He has more pressing matters to attend to with our current situation and the president on the sidelines. He asked me to fill in.” Garrison said as smooth as a snake’s tongue.
“There have been rumors, General Garrison, that the Impals here in our own country are not being rounded up for population issues. It has been said they are being exterminated instead. What do you say to those claims General?” the interviewer asked.
“Ridiculous!” he spat. “Why would we even consider something like that?”
“Well …” the interviewer began. “For one thing, you were very vocal a few days ago about the evil origins of Impals. Wouldn’t that be reason enough?”
With the smooth finesse of a snake stalking it prey, he countered in the most innocent voice. He sounded so convincing that I damn near believed him. “Yes my dear, I did say it and I still believe it. Let me make one thing perfectly clear. This is the United States of America, the greatest and most humane country on the entire planet. We do not treat anyone in a cruel or unfair manner. Never have, never will.”
A group of blue-collar workers in the back erupted into misplaced patriotic applause for my father’s statement. I don’t think anyone else in the restaurant even noticed. One person did notice. I turned to see Steff listening with rapt attention, a huge smile on her face.
“Grandpa sounds good on the radio, doesn’t he?” she said proudly.
I didn’t say anything. I felt horrified, like my child discovered a piece of pornography that they proudly proclaimed as fine art. I knew I couldn’t say anything against my father to her and if I did, it would make things worse between us. Instead, I continued to listen to the verbal sewage coming over the airwaves.
The Myriad Resistance Page 12
