The Distant Echo of a Bright Sunny Day

by Patrick O'Brien

  “No, you did fine. But I suggest we minimize talk about us and any former relationship. Keep it real light and general. Concentrate, instead, on letting the others talk about environmental concerns. I suspect they’ll have a lot to say on the subject—these environmental zealots usually do. Anyway, I’ll be all ears…interested in hearing what my ‘counterparts’ from the great state of Oregon have to say.”

  “You might regret that…”

  “Whatta you mean?”

  “They’ll probably talk your ear off, especially Heidi and Jody—they’re both the fanatics of the bunch. As near as I can tell, the others are along for the ride. But I gotta hang up—they’re comin’ back from the store. In about an hour, then…”

  “Right. Just remember, keep it loose.”

  As Rick stepped from the phone booth, Heidi and Jody walked up. Heidi had a cup of coffee and a half-eaten powdered donut. Jody had a vanilla soda and a Hershey bar.

  “Did you get hold of him all right?” Heidi asked and took another bite from the donut.

  “Yeah. He’ll be here in an hour. We’ll just have to hang out until then.”

  “How did he sound?” Jody asked. She had taken the wrapper partway off the Hershey bar, and bit into it.

  “He sounded okay…glad to know we made it.”

  “Is he gonna mind?”

  “Hell, he practically invited us to come all the way out here. I think he’s actually looking forward to helping us out. He says it’ll give him a real chance to strike a blow for the environment.”

  “Really? That’s good to hear.”

  Rick smiled. “He’s a real trooper. He’s a hundred percent on board.”

  “Is that right?”

  “You bet! He says he’s tired of being an armchair activist. He wants to do something real for a change.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Heidi said.

  “What’s good to hear?” Mike and Tony came up alongside the two women.

  “Rick says our contact is ready to welcome us with open arms.”

  “Oooh!” Tony exclaimed. “What’s he like?”

  “He’s an ol’ sea salt—like a lot of ’em, gruff but nice. Least that’s how I remember him.”

  “I’ve always liked sailors,” Tony said. “I grew up in Bremerton, you know—”

  “Can he accommodate all of us?” Mike asked.

  “I don’t know,” Heidi said, turning to Rick. “What about that?”

  “I think the plan is to gather at his place for a potluck; then he’ll show us the lay of the land tomorrow. But he’ll let us know when he gets here.”

  “We’ll have a chance to talk then. I’m anxious to hear what the local groups are doing. Maybe we’ll have a chance to do some networking.”

  “And if everything goes as planned, we’ll have more than enough credibility to be taken seriously,” Jody added brightly.

  “That’s for sure—originality and credibility.” Heidi agreed.

  “How’s that coffee?” Rick asked.

  “Good.”

  “I think I’ll get me a cup.”

  “How’s your friend doing?”

  “Peewee’s doin’ okay. He’s just taking a nap. He’s not used to sleeping in a van.”

  “Where’d you guys stay last night?”

  “A state campground.”

  “Was it fun?”

  “I don’t know what you mean by that. But it was okay. I’ll be right back…”

  Inside the mini-mart Rick filled a large Styrofoam coffee cup for himself and one for Peewee. He carried them both to the front of the store and set them on the counter.

  “I’m gonna get some donuts, too,” he told the clerk.

  He walked over to a cake rack and stood there, making up his mind.

  Mitch, having just come from the bathroom at the rear of the store, came down the aisle.

  “How’s it going?”

  Rick looked up.

  “Okay.”

  “Long trip, huh?”

  “I been on worse.”

  “Not as bad as Cleveland, though, huh?”

  “Yeah, not as bad as Cleveland.”

  “How’s your friend doing?”

  “He’s doing okay…just catching up on his sleep.”

  Mitch nodded.

  “You guys all set for the big one, then?”

  “The big one?”

  “Tomorrow—the big cattle kill?”

  “Yeah, we’ll be there. How ’bout you?”

  “I don’t know about shooting anything, but, yeah…”

  “Not a sportsman, huh?”

  “I’m not sure this has anything to do with being a sportsman.”

  Rick turned back to the cake rack. He picked up a box of powdered donuts and started to walk away.

  “How’d your friend ever come up with an idea like this, anyhow? I mean, you gotta admit, it’s pretty wild.”

  Rick looked at him.

  “You writin’ a book or somethin’?”

  “Just curious.”

  “Yeah—well—like Peewee said, it’s all about the wolves. He takes it real personal, considers it an affront to his values. And it’s not a big step from that to wanting to make a point about it.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  Rick gave him a close look.

  “You only started hanging out with this bunch recently, right?”

  “I’ve known Heidi for a while…she and I go back a few years. It’s mainly about friendship, more than anything.”

  “Yeah—well—that’s the way it is with me and Peewee. And we’re in this thing together.”

  “No offense.”

  “No offense taken.”

  Rick watched Mitch go up to the counter, pay for a bag of cashew nuts and a bottle of water, then leave the store. Back at The Dalles, beyond the pleasantries of introductory remarks, the man had given no account of his role in the group; he had mostly stood off to the side and looked on. And Heidi had never mentioned him before. Rick didn’t know whether he had come along just to observe, hang out, or to be involved in the action; she had not volunteered information one way or the other. But Rick sensed a certain detachment.

  He paid for his own items and left the store.

  Heidi and the others had returned to their cars, and he walked straight over to the van.

  “Hey, amigo, open up!” he said, tapping the window.

  Peewee, who had dropped the seat back as far as it would go, raised himself up. He saw Rick standing there with a cup of coffee in each hand and a box of donuts under his arm.

  He rolled down the window.

  “That’s what I call service, man. A dude shows up with coffee and goodies and all I gotta do is reach out the window and let him hand it to me. It don’t get any better than this, brother.”

  “Shut the fuck up and take the coffee.”

  Peewee laughed—the choking, cigarette-lung, beer-coated chortle of the barroom habitué.

  Rick went around to the driver’s side and opened the door. He set the box of donuts between the two seats and got in.

  “Man, I’m telling you, I’m never gonna have another fucking beer again, you know that?” Peewee said, sipping the hot coffee. “I mean, it’s getting to the point where it actually affects me. You know what I mean?”

  “What are you gonna do instead—go on the wagon?”

  “I’m gonna switch to whiskey—it’s better for ya.”

  Rick laughed.

  “You won’t have to drink as much, that’s for sure.”

  He sipped his own coffee and helped himself to a powdered donut.

  “Ja call that dude like you were supposed to?”

  Rick took a bite of the donut and chased it with a swallow of coffee.

  “I generally do what I’m supposed to, Peewee.”

  Peewee selected a chocolate donut for himself and bit into it.

  “Well…so what’s goin’ on?”

  “He’ll be here in an hour
. I guess we’ll follow him up to his place and get oriented.”

  “So, we gonna stay there or what?”

  “I don’t think that’s part of the plan. And I don’t think the dude would want a bunch of strangers hanging out, especially knowing they’re a bunch of ego-terrorists…”

  “Eco-terrorists.”

  “Whatever. No, we’re gonna get a motel. Somethin’ with cable television an’ a bathtub.”

  “That’s a winner.”

  “Yeah, I wanna clean up…Say, what do you think of that dude?”

  Peewee had taken a bite out of a second donut.

  “Which one is that?”

  “The guy wearing the sports jacket and the sweater.”

  “Yeah, that is a little strange, isn’t it…wearing a sports jacket.”

  “No, I don’t mean that,” Rick said, and he recounted the conversation in the store.

  “Sounds like a cop to me.”

  “That’s what I thought. But why?”

  “Maybe these guys have been infiltrated by the locals…”

  “You really think so?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. All I know is, I don’t wanna spend any more time around any of them than I have to. For one thing, that fat bastard, the one you said is a drag queen, wants to hit on me. And, for another, these aren’t my kind of people. I know exactly what Leroy was talkin’ about now.”

  “Hey, go easy on yourself. You did okay back there, my brother. The dudes were impressed. You had them all convinced.”

  “That was the joint talkin’ man. I was just going with the flow. Trippin’ right along.”

  “Even so, that was Academy Award stuff. I should’ve had a recorder or a video camera.”

  “Yeah…What time’s that dude supposed to be here, anyway?”

  Rick looked at his watch. “Any time now.”

  “You’re on pretty quick, huh?”

  Rick grinned. “Yeah, my turn’s comin’…”

  40

  The choreographed fanfare the two men had arranged over the phone came off better than expected, given the lack of rehearsal and a set of circumstances calling for an improvisational technique worthy of a Shakespearean actor. Neither man could predict how convincingly he would perform in this impromptu situation; but, as it happened, the event unfolded with a degree of serendipitous spontaneity, with each man falling into his role as if by nature decreed.

  The trick had been not to overdo it.

  “Long time no see, amigo!” Punch extended one hand into a warm handshake and, with the other, clasped Rick on the shoulder. “By God!—How many years has it been?”

  “Too goddamn long for me!” Rick said with a laugh. “And you, you old son of a gun, you’re no different than the last time I saw ya! You must have given up that rotgut whiskey we used to drink and switched to the good stuff!”

  Punch tilted his head back and threw out a hearty laugh.

  “That’s close, amigo,” he said. “But the real secret is bein’ retired. After a life of tossing back double rounds and fighting off wicked women, it’s the only way to go. Not a damn thing to worry about!”

  The two men let the warm handshake linger, then turned to the others, all of whom stood nearby, looking on with benign appreciation.

  “People, this here is Punch McGonigle. He and I did some foul deeds together in Panama, about which neither of us cares to talk. Suffice to say, however, he is one of us. And to prove it, he’s gonna be our guide, so to speak, while we’re here sending out a message to the world-at-large that wolves are here to stay.

  “Punch, I want you to meet Heidi. She’s a beautiful lady with a big heart and an equal amount of dedication to the cause. She’s in charge, by the way…La Commandante!”

  “Heidi, it’s a real pleasure!” Punch said, leaning forward and taking her small hand into his. “Rick has told me a lot about you, minus all the blarney. I expect we’ll have some nice conversations about the environment before all this is over.”

  “It’s a pleasure, Mr. McGonigle. And I’d like you to know that we all appreciate very much what you’re doing for us. Rick says you might even like to be more actively engaged…?”

  “Call me Punch, please. But, yeah, he’s absolutely right. I been sittin’ around too long, just thinking about it. I need to get off my duff and do something concrete. Talk is fine, but action’s better.”

  “Well, after a long time of talking about it, we came to the same conclusion ourselves. And that, of course, is why we’re here.”

  “So I hear,” Punch said and looked off at the others.

  Rick continued with introductions, accompanying each name with a comment or two about the person.

  “This here is Carlos. He’s a man who wants to make a difference, and he thinks he’s found a way to do it.”

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Carlos. Had a friend in the Navy once named Carlos. He owned a car lot in civilian life, so we used to call him ‘Car Lot.’”

  Carlos laughed.

  “I could live with that,” he said.

  “You probably been called worse than that, huh?”

  “Ooh, yeah. But most of it’s been in Spanish.”

  “I was stationed in San Diego once…They got some choice phrases, that’s for sure.”

  Rick continued. “And this is Jody. She’s second in command…la teniente. She and Heidi are the two organizers of the outfit.”

  “So you been at it a long time, then, huh?” Punch remarked, holding out his hand.

  Jody smiled in acknowledgment of the comment and, taking Punch’s hand in her own, shook it with the manly firmness of a liberated female.

  “I’ve done my share to help the cause,” she said modestly.

  “That’s what we all need to do,” Punch said and waited for the next introduction.

  Rick segued into it like an infomercial huckster moving onto another product.

  “And here’s two people who couldn’t agree more—a man and wife team who want to see the environment protected as much as anyone.”

  “We’re not married,” Ralph said, almost apologetically.

  “Hell, that’s never stopped a good relationship from becoming a lasting one,” Punch said and gave both Ralph and Misty a meaningful smile. “And, in fact, I’ve been privileged to know a few couples that benefited more from not being married. Sometimes, it ain’t all that necessary.”

  Misty, slightly embarrassed by the untimely revelation, smiled gratefully.

  Rick turned to Mike and Tony. They were both dressed in black and, standing side by side, seemed obviously to be together as a pair. Keeping his tone matter-of-fact, Rick ignored the obvious.

  “Punch, meet Mike and Tony…foot soldiers but no less dedicated. Tony here is a professional photographer. He’s gonna immortalize us all in black and white. We’re gonna be famous because of him.”

  Likewise ignoring the obvious, Punch stuck out his hand.

  “Gents, glad to meet both of ya. And, Tony, I’ve done some black-and-white photography myself. It can be tricky, but if you get it right, it’s real satisfying.”

  He looked at Mitch. “But who we got here?”

  “I’m Mitch. I’m along for the ride.”

  “Along for the ride, huh?”

  “He takes notes. I think he’s gonna put us all in a novel afterwards.”

  “A novelist, huh?”

  “I’ve given some thought to it.”

  “I suppose we all have at one time or another. But glad to make your acquaintance. And if you ever do put us in a novel, be sure to describe me as tall, dark, and handsome.”

  “I’ll at least give you a full head of hair.”

  “I’ll settle for that.” Punch chuckled and turned to Peewee. “And…?”

  “And last but not least,” Rick said, moving his pitchman patter up a notch, “is my little buddy Peewee. Him and I pulled off some outrageous stunts together in Kosovo. But we don’t talk about that, do we, Peewee? We just leave that up
to people’s imagination.”

  “And that way we don’t get caught in no lies.” Peewee laughed, showing his white teeth.

  “Best way to do it,” Punch said as the two men shook hands. “Kind of close-mouthed myself about certain things…Anyway, glad to meet all of ya! And welcome to Montana! It’s a big state and there’s lots of room for all of God’s creatures, both man and beast. But if y’all wanna just follow me back to my place, we can have a talk-up and maybe a barbecue on the patio. I expect y’all got settled in, though, right?”

  Heidi named a motel they had called ahead to and made reservations. “We haven’t checked in yet because we thought we should call you first thing.”

  Punch knew the motel. “It’s on the way. We can stop there, and you can check in. In fact, I got some business here in town I gotta take care of. Why don’t you go ahead and do that—give yourselves a chance to freshen up—and I’ll meet ya there in a couple of hours. How’s that?”

  “That’d be great,” they all agreed.

  “Good. Then I’ll see ya in a bit.”

  He left in his jeep.

  They all stood there as though waiting for the order to make the next move.

  “How many reservations did you make, Heidi?” Mike wondered.

  “I made five, five doubles. I secured them with my card.”

  “Sounds like we got a place to sleep tonight,” Mitch said. “Good work.”

  They all started moving toward their respective cars. Peewee hung back.

  “Aren’t you coming, Peewee?” Rick asked.

  “I’m gonna take a bathroom break first. I’ll be out in a minute. The rest of you guys go on ahead. Me and Rick’ll catch up. Right, Rick?”

  “We can wait,” Heidi said.

  “Nah, go on ahead. I got a little problem. A little trouble with the bladder, an’ it’s gonna take awhile.”

  “You serious, Peewee?” Rick asked.

  “Do I sound serious, man? Course I’m serious. I’m gonna have to spend time coaxing it out—gettin’ to be a real problem…just started recently.”

  Rick glanced at the others.

  “Just go ahead,” he said. “We’ll be along.”

  Peewee went into the store.

  Heidi stood there.

  “Just go on ahead,” Rick told her again. “I don’t know what the hell’s wrong.”