Billy Palmer

by Ronald Zastre

  “That night we moved down to the valley, ready to hook up with the first unit we could find. We were looking for some kind of defensive position and some Marines to help us hold on to it.

  We found a platoon from H company, Lieutenant Wynn was the officer. He was cool, had about six months in country. If you had something to say, he listened. He was also concerned because he was originally supposed to be the left flank, but with all the screw-ups, he was just trying to make some sort of position. He laughed when we reported what we knew, telling us that the original operational plans were still in effect, even though we had been dropped seven miles away from the original LZ. In the morning, the powers that be figured we could all just pack up and get to where we were supposed to be, on foot. Wynn wasn’t too happy when we informed him of all the activity we had spotted.”

  “We tell Wynn, ‘We are in big trouble, expect lots of casualties.’ Wynn says he suspects we’re right, but he can’t stop it, no one listens to a lowly lieutenant. We confer: Billy, myself, the other team, Wilkes and a new guy Sanders, and tell Wynn that it’s likely that the NVA are planning something. ‘Don’t expect them to just hit and run in the morning.’ He gets his orders, move out at dawn, and we just laugh. We know we aren’t going anywhere the NVA don’t want us to, and it is going to be impossible to get air cover until at least noon. We tell him, ‘God damnit Wynn. they’re waiting for you.’”

  “At day break, Wynn splits up his force, sending two separate groups to look for a defensive position. He actually disobeys orders, and doesn’t head for the original LZ. He’s a smart guy that ends up saving many his men that day. That night, he informed us that almost half of his men were green, five on their first field trip.”

  “We had spotted a small rise covered in grass the day before, and our group went to check it out. If we could dig in there it would be the best place. This all depended on whether the NVA were already there or not. We scoped the hill from a mile and didn’t see any movement, but that didn’t guarantee anything. We had to cross this narrow paddy to get there and going across we started taking fire. If the NVA are on the hill to the front we are in deep shit, but we get lucky and get the hill. There are some experienced guys in the group and they start to dig in.”

  “The squad leader called Wynn, telling him to head our way, now! Wynn makes it to the paddy and starts across taking heavy fire from his rear. We’ve got a good position and hold the NVA away from him. I don’t think the NVA following him expected us to be able to get hits at half a mile. Wynn gets across with only a couple of casualties, nothing life threatening.”

  “By ten o’clock we are dug in good, and Wynn has told his men that it looks good, despite the obvious fact that some of the other units are engaged in heavy fighting. We can hear it over the radio, and the sounds of battle fill the valley. Wynn calls in a couple of artillery rounds just to spot and mark as a precaution.”

  “Just before eleven the shit hits the fan. There are NVA all over us. By three that afternoon Wynn is dead, he exposed himself continually playing Lieutenant until he got it. Billy’s been hit twice, once in the elbow, once a glancing blow in the chest, but is still fighting, yelling ‘Bip!’ every time he drops one. Sanders is dead, he was shot in the back. He couldn’t pull himself up to fight anymore so he loaded empty magazines until he died. Wilkes is out of action, bad head wound, and more than half of Wynn’s men are down. By some miracle I’m still unscratched. It got so intense the sounds of the battle were drowned out. I could only sense the mechanical clicking of the 16 as I fired and fired. I found a target, pulled the trigger, the rifle clacked, jumped a little, and I looked for the next target. We got intensive air cover about then, and the NVA broke off.”

  “The rest of the night we spent hunkered down, expecting the worst, but it never came. The night action was farther down the valley. I think we were about the only prepared position in the whole damn mess, and the NVA took too many casualties trying to get to us and went after easier targets that night.”

  “They got us out by midmorning the next day, the Dust Offs coming in through the soup. Billy was taken to a hospital, and that was the last time I saw him, until he came to see us a couple of years later. I kind of laid low the rest of my tour, about six weeks, and went home a happy man.”

  “Did you know Billy had gotten married?” Manny asked.

  “No, he hadn’t the last time I talked to him.”

  “Yeah, had a little girl too. They were both murdered.”

  Manny tells Tainer the story. Then about his going to Yuma and meeting with the man that did it, Eddy Crane.”

  “You looked this guy up, are you nuts?”

  “I couldn’t help myself,” Manny said, sheepishly. “Before I knew it, I was there talking to him. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Boy, if you’re going to get in the information gathering business you need to plan things out a little better. That man could be dangerous!”

  “I doubt if he suspected me.”

  “I’m sure he’s going to wonder if he doesn’t hear from you, or are you planning to contact him again?”

  “No, no, I just wanted to see what a man that could do those things would look like. I guess my curiosity got the best of me.”

  “I don’t know Manny, exposing yourself like that isn’t too smart? I hope you’re right, but don’t be surprised if he shows up. After all you did offer him something. He’s going to expect you to come through. When are you planning to go back home?” Tainer asked.

  “Well, you got me the return for tonight, I guess I’ll take that one.”

  “Look, I’ve got some time tomorrow, middle of the day. Why don’t you stay until tomorrow evening, we can get together again? You probably need to start your Christmas shopping. I know I always put mine off until the last minute. New York’s a great place to shop.”

  “Yeah, you’re right about that. I could probably get something really special for Cassey. I need to let her know I still love her, and not Billy, considering the time I’ve spend on this adventure.”

  “Great, it’s all set then. I’ll have my secretary take care of it. Look, I feel bad about getting you to stay over and then not be able to spend any time with you tonight, but I am really tied up. I have prior commitments that would bore the hell out of you. Give me your room and cell number and if I can get free, I’ll call.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, New York is a great city to spend an evening in. I can think of lots to do. Besides, I don’t take the phone with me, I hate the damn thing.”

  *

  “Did Billy have a nickname?” Manny asked, back in Mark’s office the next morning, standing, looking out the window.

  “Yes, Ollie,” Tainer answered.

  “Ollie & Sven.” Manny turned to Tainer, grinning, a cocky look on his face and laughed. “Billy was telling you guys those jokes?”

  “Oh yeah, we laughed our asses off. Where did Ollie and Sven come from?”

  “They’re a common Minnesota joke repertoire, the Swedish Meatballs, Billy called them. You know,” Manny hesitated, thinking. “Billy made up many of those jokes himself. It was like he had an inside to the characters”

  “Tell me about Lena,” Mark said, leaning forward. “Billy said he knew a real life one.”

  “Oh god, that would be Cassey!” Manny exclaimed. “How did he describe her?”

  “Oh, let me think now, ah let’s see. This Lena was this Nordic blond bomb shell that was Ollie’s girl. The way he put it, we all fell in love immediately. She had um, I can’t remember quite how it goes, wheels and motor something.”

  “She had hellacious wheels, all the way up to her motor?” Manny finished, laughing again.

  “Yeah, that’s it! I’d just think about Billy’s graphic description of Lena and save lot of strain on my hand,” Tainer hesitated. “Ah, aren’t we talking about your wife?”

  “Oh, don’t worry, Cassey loved it. I don’t know about you guys cutting down on the revs, but she loved
being a part of Billy’s making everybody laugh. It’s strange how you can forget something important like that. It just slips out of your mind and then all at once it surfaces again.”

  “You having a flash back?”

  “Yeah, I was thinking about Ollie and Sven, I was Sven. That’s how close we all were. Billy, Cassey and I. God, it was great times. I’d forgotten how hilarious Billy could be. Boy, that was a long time ago.” Manny made a clicking sound with his tongue, looking out the window again, a faraway look transfixing on his face. “Before he went away.”

  Manny turned back to Mark with a serious look. “I wish I would have done something to rekindle that friendship. Now it’s too late.”

  “Better late, than never.”

  “But what does it do for the Billy’s of the world, the ones that are gone and forgotten?”

  “Maybe they get remembered, like they deserve.”

  “But I missed the chance to tell him to his face. How I appreciated him for being Billy. That’s what should have happened, not the indifference we ended up having for each other.”

  “Well, apathy among friends is ridiculous, so to cleanse thy soul, why not tell it to me,” Tainer said. “I’m sort of guilty too. I’d like to hear more about Billy, what he was like before he fell into that meat grinder.”

  Manny looked at Tainer, feeling a kinship. “Billy was funnier than hell and could get away with almost everything he did,” Manny said, finally coming to sit down. “Teachers loved him. In eighth grade we would have film days. Billy taped a playboy center fold on the screen and rolled it back up. The teacher pulled the screen down and everyone started laughing. The teacher had his back to the screen so he couldn’t figure it out. Finally this girl in the front row gets him to turn around. He looked at the picture for a bit and shook his head.

  “I guess I’ll be seeing Mr. Palmer after class,” he said, taking the pinup down.

  “I stopped after hockey practice, and Billy and this teacher are shooting the breeze, just like old friends.”

  Chapter 23

  “Come on doggy, hop on in,” Cassey said to George of the Jungle as she held the driver’s seat forward for him to get in the back. Her SUV, was still inside the garage.

  George took his customary position in the back seat on the floor. George loved to go with her, but she could never figure out why because he stayed on the floor and was never seen. She figured it was his favorite place to sleep.

  It’s Thursday, and every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon she drove five miles on the back roads to the high school in the next town for her aerobics class. Cassey was very diligent about her exercise. She hadn’t missed a class in a long time.

  As she backed out of the garage, she thought about how Manny would hate this day, cloudy and gray, the forecast calling for another six to ten inches of snow. I know Manny has never liked winter, and I shouldn’t feel annoyed about him leaving again, considering how bad the weather is going to get. He seems happier this year, the traveling has been good for him. Cassey smiled at the thought. And the Billy project. I know he’s been bored at work for years, ever since Andy died. Andy was such a pain in the butt. Manny had to take up the slack, but since then it has all gone smooth and Manny has built a great business. He doesn’t have much to do there anymore, it all runs so well. Now he’s got something to sink his teeth into.

  Cassey had made it out of town, driving down the two lane road for the neighboring high school. It started to snow, but she liked the white soothing calm it brought her. Cassey was thinking about why she and Manny felt so differently about this season. It’s the quietness that I love about winter, the stillness and the slowed down pace.”

  Lost in speculation, Cassey barely noticed a big, black truck behind her and gave it no thought. The road was bordered on both sides by high snow banks made by the snow plows, and a little farther back, big trees. There were very few houses out this way, the area was known for its wildness. Cassey was cruising along, enjoying the scenery. The new snow was heavy and wet, sticking to the branches of the trees. She looked into the rear view mirror, and the black truck was right on her tail, getting ready to pass her.

  Some dork in a hurry, not appreciating the winter wonderland. She sighed, as the truck swung out to pass and charged forward. The truck went past, moving out in front of her SUV, when suddenly its brake lights came on, startling her. The black truck turned right in front of her, starting to slide sideways, blocking the road. Cassey jammed on her brakes.”

  “Goddamn idiot!” Cassey shouted, as the big truck continued to brake right in front of her. The black truck lost control, and the rear end slid out, brushing the tall snow bank on the far side of the road. Cassey also continued braking, staying behind the out of control truck. The big truck continued sideways down the road, loosing speed, but still blocking the road. The truck came to a stop and so did Cassey. The truck was ten feet in front of her SUV, and her first thought was, Thank god there was no accident.”

  The driver’s side door of the truck, facing away from her, opened and a smallish man appeared, trotting around the front of the black truck. Cassey wasn’t alarmed at first, but she suddenly realized the man had a ski mask covering his face, and was headed right for her. Cassey instinctively hit the power lock, securing the doors to the SUV, as the man ran up to her window. She was just about to put the SUV in reverse, when the attacker pulled a metal bar out of his coat with his left hand, and swung wildly at her side window, smashing it in, covering her in shattered glass.

  She had the SUV in reverse, and rammed the throttle down. Cassey operated the four-wheel-drive vehicle in two wheel drive most of the time because she was told; it uses less gas that way. The SUV’s rear wheels spun on the icy road, and the vehicle hardly moved, as her assailant reached in through the shattered window. The man grabbed for the inside door handle, grasping it with his left hand, pulling the handle up and opening the door. He backed off slightly, allowing the door to open enough so there was room for him to reach into the cab, to grab for Cassey. Cassey was scrambling away from him toward the passenger’s side of the cab, kicking at him with her legs, screaming as loud as she could. The shrieking hurt his ears as he started to move toward the panicking Cassey, trying to grab one of her thrashing legs.

  The first indication that something was amiss was the heavy, musky smell the assailant detected moments before he was hit.

  The sudden, violent attack from the back seat was totally unexpected, as George of the Jungle rammed the man with one-hundred pounds of furry and savage teeth. Before the attacker realized what had happened, George grabbed his right upper arm in his huge mouth, and was driving him back out of Cassey’s SUV. George’s massive weight drove them both down toward the icy roadway.

  The attacker got lucky, as George’s momentum carried the huge dog over him, loosening the crushing grip on his arm, both of them spinning around, temporarily separated. The man ended up on his knees, with George stretched out on the slippery road, his legs splayed out, churning and slipping, trying to get back to his feet, to renew the assault. The dog, unable to get a solid footing, allowed the man just enough room and time to swing the metal rod, violently, producing a lucky shot, catching George at the back of the skull, knocking the dog back down with a sickening crunch. The man and George collapsed back on the slippery roadway.

  The man tried to stand on the ice, dropping the metal bar, managing to get to his knees first, his jacket torn and his right arm hanging weakly. He grabbed his damaged arm above the elbow with the other hand and stood slowly, looking into the SUV, to Cassey. She had the glove box open and was fumbling around in it. The man had no idea what may be in there and he was hurt too bad to continue the assault.

  Blood was dripping from his damaged arm, on to the roadway, as he headed back for the black truck, stumbling and sliding around the front, trying to reach the still open driver’s door.

  Cassey’s was in shock, finally getting the cell phone she pulled out of the glove box turned
on, her breath coming in short, thick gasps. She moved like she was in a dream, slowly, deliberately, as she watched the man painfully pull the door of his truck shut. She sat back up behind her steering wheel, gripping it with white knuckles, as the black truck backed up, stopped, started forward, turning to accelerate straight down the road, away from her.

  As the assailant’s truck disappeared into the falling snow, Cassey sat ridged, frosty, short contrails of breath shooting out of her mouth. She tried to slow her breathing, trying to piece together what had just happened. She was uncertain what to do next, now that the danger was gone. It wasn’t until she looked out the open door of the SUV and saw her beloved George laying still on the cold road that she finally reacted, picking the phone off the seat and dialing quickly.

  *

  The first sheriff car arrived a few minutes later, and found Cassey sitting in the road, crying. Her tears were frozen to her cheeks, George’s head cradled in her lap. The deputy recognized Mrs. Anderson immediately and when he asked her what happened, she responded with, “That son-of-a-bitch killed my dog.”

  The deputy was slightly confused, getting Cassey to respond any farther was difficult. She was holding on to the dog tightly, and the officer couldn’t get her to let loose, or answer any of his questions. The deputy was kneeling down, his hand on her shoulder, trying to question the despondent Cassey.

  “I’ll never forgive that son-of-a-bitch for this,” Cassey said, finally looking up to the deputy, a look of anger in her tear streaked eyes.

  “Who’s that Mam, who did this?” asked Deputy Auburn. He hadn’t a clue yet about what happened.

  “That fuckin Manny, I warned him! This is his fault!” Cassey shouted.

  “Manny Anderson, that’s your husband, right? He did this?” Auburn asked.

  “He couldn’t leave it alone, and this is what happened!”

  Auburn stroked George’s head, looking for clues and noticed some blood on the dog’s mussel. He pulled the skin back to look at the teeth.