Fever!

by David Achord

  “Quit being sarcastic. By the way, have you spoken with Justin lately?” she asked.

  “Not lately,” I replied. I caught a sidelong look from her. “Why, is something up?”

  She glanced around to see if anyone was listening before speaking under her breath. “I’ve been talking to Ruth. She and Justin feel like they’re being mistreated.”

  “By whom?” I asked.

  “Ruth believes Parvis and President Stark have relegated her status to nothing more than a gopher and Justin believes you don’t respect his rank.”

  I was about to call bullshit, but the look she gave stopped me. She knew what I was about to say, and I knew how she was going to respond. So, I kept my mouth shut and looked around. I spotted Justin and Ruth. They were sitting at a table with Jeremiah and his family.

  “Okay, let me go say hello,” I said, stood, and walked over. As I approached, they looked up.

  “Merry Christmas,” I said.

  “To you as well,” Justin replied. Jeremiah only gave me a nod.

  I looked down at Junior, Ruth, and Justin’s son. “You were awesome in the play.”

  “What do you say?” Ruth asked him.

  “Thank you,” Justin Junior replied. I gave him a smile and refrained the urge to tussle his hair.

  “Your face is all rosy,” Ruth said. “Have you been outside?”

  “Yeah, Fred, Sammy, and I went on a morning horseback ride.” I thought of Peggy’s grave. “Which reminds me, I want to have a meeting with you guys and the scout teams and compare notes, would this afternoon be good for you?”

  “We were planning on spending the day with our respective families,” Justin said.

  “Unless you plan on pulling rank on us,” Jeremiah said. The two men exchanged glances.

  “Oh, no, nothing like that. We’ll talk about it later. You guys have a Merry Christmas.”

  “I think I see what you mean,” I said to Kelly after I’d sat back down at our table.

  Chapter 27 – Reconciliation

  Back before, when I was a punk kid, if I got into an argument with a friend, I had a simple method of patching things up; we’d do something like play Xbox together. If a grown man needed to patch things up with a friend, he’d take him out to somewhere like Hooters, or Twin Peaks. You’d drink beer, eat wings, and ogle the waitresses. A night of camaraderie was usually all it took to smooth things over. But, that was then. Things were different now. No Hooters, no strip bar, nothing like that. One had to find another way to smooth things over.

  Kelly and I discussed my options. We came up with a lot of ideas and discarded all of them. We talked about inviting them over for dinner, but we had a cafeteria where food inventory was closely managed and skipping meals resulted in wasted food. We discussed inviting them over for a night of cards, but Mount Weather had its own card league. We had a lot of organized amusements; chess tournaments, trivia night, movie night, you name it.

  Fred had listened in silence as we bandied about different things before speaking.

  “Country boys used to go fishing,” he said. “It was a good way of going somewhere quiet where you could talk things out, or maybe not talk at all and just enjoy the activity.”

  “It’s as good an idea as any,” she said.

  So, it was decided. I found Jeremiah and Justin in the armory, reloading ammo.

  “Good morning,” I greeted.

  “Good morning, Zach,” Justin replied. “Are you here to help out?”

  I started to tell them about the meeting I was headed to, but realized it might not be received well. I pulled up a chair and started helping them sort brass.

  “What brings you here this morning?” Jeremiah asked me.

  “I came here to invite you guys to go fishing tomorrow.”

  The two men eyed me and exchanged a glance before Justin spoke. “It’ll be a little cold, don’t you think?”

  “Well, if Marines are put out by a little cold weather, I suppose we can pack some hot water bottles or something.”

  Jeremiah chuckled, which I took as a good sign. We spent the next fifteen minutes working on the reloads in silence. I was going to wait and talk to them while we were fishing, but since I wasn’t getting a definitive answer, I decided to go ahead and get on with it.

  “I have an ulterior motive for the invite,” I said. “I have seemed to have gotten on the wrong side of two men I consider friends. I’d like to talk it over and clear the air. Any thoughts?”

  The two men exchanged another glance.

  “You’ve changed, Zach,” Justin said. “Lately, you’ve been throwing out orders like you’re the one running the place.”

  Jeremiah jumped in. “There’ve been times when you’ve undermined our authority, in front of our Marines and the other people, and behind our back.”

  I gave Jeremiah a long hard look. “I know there are times, Dayton for example, when I have countermanded orders, but you’re going to have to explain what you think I’ve done behind your backs.”

  “There’ve been times where things were going to be done one way, but then you go into one of those meetings with the president, and when you come out, things get changed,” he said. “Things get changed frequently without talking it over with either of us.”

  “Dayton is a good example,” Justin said. “You put out the order to capture a zed without my say-so and then you give the order to go to Detrick.”

  “I thought we worked that out,” I said.

  “It should have been worked out from the get-go,” he replied. “Not after the fact, and not without our input.”

  I pursed my lips. “I’ve never been in the military, as you both know, but isn’t there a phrase called a fragmentary order, or a FRAGO? It’s my understanding a FRAGO is used to make a change in the mission when the tactical situation dictates it. Am I right?”

  There was no response to this.

  “Alright, I’ll come back to Dayton in a minute. As for going behind your backs, when I walk into those damn meetings, I am not the only voice there.” I gestured at Justin. “Your wife is in every meeting, she knows what goes on. She records the minutes, for Christ’s sake.”

  “She says the president listens to you,” he said.

  “He does, but he doesn’t always agree with me. In fact, he mostly listens to Parvis, along with a few other people. He listens to Ruth too.”

  He shook his head. “He might have, once, but between him, Parvis, Rhinehart, Duckworth, and Nelson, she’s been relegated to nothing more than a gopher who keeps him supplied with tea.”

  There was a lull in conversation now, and I watched the reloading machine do its magic. The cartridges moved along like little brass soldiers getting primed and then capped with the bullet.

  “We’re down to our last hundred rounds of 308,” Jeremiah said offhandedly. “You might want to bring that up in one of those meetings.”

  “I will, thank you.”

  I waited to see if either of them had any comments, but the only thing I got was a solitary grunt from Jeremiah. Justin said nothing and instead made a point of fastidiously inspecting the finished bullets. He had two boxes. Most of them were going into one box. The rejects would be used for target practice or recycled. I sighed and stood.

  “I apologize for this…” I paused, searching for the right words. “For this misunderstanding between us. I consider the two of you friends, but perhaps I’m wrong. I try to keep a proper perspective of who I am and my role in this community, but it’s not easy. In fact, it’s hard as hell. I also try my best to fill a role and do the right thing, but I often find myself in Catch-22 situations.”

  I paused a moment. “Here’s an example. Apparently, the two of you believe I was wrong about the decision to take that infected woman to Fort Detrick.”

  “We never said that,” Justin said while still not making eye contact.

  “But you two haven’t said it was the right decision, now have you?”

  Neither answered.


  “Well, okay then.” I looked at my watch and stood. “I’ve missed one of those pesky little meetings where I get to go behind people’s backs. So, Parvis will expect me to join him in our office, whereupon he’ll tell me everything I missed and then quiz me to see what my input would’ve been.”

  I looked at my watch again. “We’re leaving in the morning at six. We’re going to try our hand with the catfish in the Shenandoah. Harold believes there will be so many they’ll simply jump up on the bank for us. I hope you two join us. If you don’t, I’ll understand.”

  The next morning, four of us enjoyed a light breakfast and made small talk. I knew Sammy and Fred would go, no matter what the weather. I was surprised to see Rachel walk in.

  “You’re going with us?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Fred might fall in and somebody will need to give him mouth-to-mouth.”

  Sammy laughed. Fred frowned. I glanced at my watch a couple of times. Fred noticed.

  “Let’s get moving,” he said.

  I nodded, believing the two Marines had declined the invitation, but to my surprise, when we walked outside, First Sergeant Jeremiah Crumby and Captain Justin Smithson were waiting on us in two idling Humvees.

  “Good morning,” I said. “Sorry we took so long.”

  Justin cleared his throat. “Oh, you’re not late. Fred suggested we should be early.”

  Fred had no comment as he walked past us and began loading up the gear, leaving me to wonder what exactly he had said to them.

  “Good morning, Jarheads,” Rachel said cheerily as she got in the backseat of Jeremiah’s Humvee.

  “Alright, we can chitchat on the ride, everyone load up,” Fred directed and looked at Sammy. “We’re riding with the first sergeant.”

  Justin watched as I put the gear and fishing poles in the back of the Humvee he was driving and got in the front with him.

  “I’ve got the heater on, but I hope the weather warms up,” he said as he put the vehicle in drive. “Otherwise, it’s going to be cold down there on the river.”

  “Yeah, I hope so too.”

  As we exited the gate, I pointed down the road. “Head to Harold’s and we’ll pick up some fish bait.”

  “Roger that,” Justin replied.

  “I appreciate you two coming,” I said after we’d signed out with the guards.

  “We appreciate the invite,” he replied.

  Harold and Maude were waiting for us when we arrived. To my surprise, they wanted to join us. The two of them had freshly scrubbed faces and were wearing identical bib overalls with thermal underwear and lumberjack caps. Maude had some fishing poles and Harold was carrying a couple of five-gallon plastic buckets. They both had some foul-smelling concoction in them.

  “Good God, what is that?” Justin asked with a disgusted scowl.

  “Chitlins,” Harold said with a grin. “Hog guts. Catfish will eat this stuff like candy.”

  Despite the frigid morning air, Justin hastily rolled down his window. Zoe took a cautious sniff and snorted. The closest river to Mount Weather was the Shenandoah, only ten miles away, and we were there in no time.

  “I’ve been fishing this river ever since I was a boy,” Harold said, “and it ain’t been fished by nobody but me in years. I tell ya’, it’s gonna be plumb full of catfish.”

  Maude agreed with a giggle. When I looked over at her, she held her fist up with a thumb slightly stuck out and shook it. I assumed she was giving me a thumbs up, or something. Harold decided he was the master fishing guide and placed us in groups along the bank.

  “Okay, we’re going for catfish, but don’t throw anything back, we’ll feed all of the leftovers to the hogs.” He then tossed some of the vile-smelling guts into the water before scooping up handfuls and dumping gobs in front of each of us.

  “Them fish are gonna love this stuff. Start out at about four feet, and if you don’t get any bites, start going deeper.”

  Fred and Rachel had walked fifty yards down the bank. Jeremiah looked over at Sammy.

  “Come on, son. We’re going to find us a good spot.” They walked in the opposite direction and picked a spot twenty yards away. Justin and I picked a spot between Fred and Rachel.

  “You fish much?” I asked Justin.

  “Honestly, this is probably my third time. I remember fishing with my grandfather once when I was a kid. I think I caught a brim that was about the size of a tadpole.”

  “I didn’t have a grandfather, but an old man from my grandmother’s church took a few of the boys fishing sometimes.”

  We heard a squeal of joy and looked over to see Maude fighting with her fishing rod.

  “It’s a big ‘un,” Harold exclaimed and helped her reel the fish in. He waded down into the cold water, grabbed the fish with his bare hands, and hauled it up onto the river bank.

  “Oh Lordy, it’s a twenty pounder for sure,” he said with a big grin. Maude giggled with glee.

  Harold was right. The river was full of fish and the seven of us did a good job of catching them while Harold jogged back and forth grabbing the fish. His job was gutting and skinning them, which he performed expertly with a razor-sharp fillet knife.

  “Y’all are doing good,” he would say encouragingly as he walked up and down the river bank. “Keep it up.”

  I waited until Harold walked off before speaking in a low tone, “From the conversation we had yesterday, you two Marines think I’ve lost respect for you and that I’ve become too big for my britches, would that be an accurate assessment?”

  “Over the past year, there’s been a change in you,” he said. “It’s almost like you have the idea you’re running things.”

  “I can see how it would appear that way,” I said.

  “Is there an explanation?” he asked.

  “It’s a little complex, and I think I need to use an anecdotal story to fully explain.”

  Now Justin gave me a look as if to say, nothing’s ever simple with you.

  “Alright, I’m all ears,” he said.

  “Do you remember way back when there were all of those reality shows on TV?”

  Justin glanced at me as he wiggled his line slightly. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “There was one show where a man would take on failing bars. He’d yell and scream at everyone and get them straightened out and they’d start making a profit.”

  “Yeah, I remember that show,” Justin said, wondering where I was going with my story.

  “So, there were a lot of episodes where he would jump all over the manager because he was too friendly with the employees to properly supervise them. The manager would piss and moan about how hard it was to boss people around who he considered friends. That dude would shut them down and tell them, welcome to management.”

  “And the point of this story?” he asked.

  “Both Parvis and President Stark have emphasized I need to be more of a manager, even to my friends.”

  “Why?” he asked. “I mean, why is he telling you to be more of a manager?”

  “Because Parvis is dying of cancer and I’m being groomed to take over his job after he’s gone.”

  That revelation stunned Justin into momentary silence. “No shit?” he finally asked.

  “He recently had surgery in secret. They removed his prostate, but the cancer metastasized. I’m sure you know, we don’t have the equipment or the means for chemotherapy, and, without chemo, he’s doomed.”

  “So, the rumors are true,” he remarked. “That’s why he’s lost so much weight lately.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to do it? Take over his job?” Justin asked.

  “That’s the plan, but it’s not common knowledge. That’s why I haven’t said anything to you sooner.”

  He stared at me curiously. “That will make you the number two man around here.”

  “You’re forgetting, most issues are voted on,” I reminded him.

  We still had our senators. When Stark took over, he red
efined the roles of the politicians. No longer were they immune from the labor pool, but they were still representatives of what was once our country and therefore, they still had a vote in the major issues of Mount Weather.

  “When does this take place?” he asked quietly. “When is he going to die?”

  “Kendra, Doctor Salisbury, thinks he has six months, give or take,” I answered. “His health is steadily deteriorating. Soon, he’ll be bedridden. When that happens, I’ll be taking his place, barring any unforeseen circumstances.”

  I saw him look pointedly at me and we locked eyes. “Are you up to it?” he asked.

  I emitted a slight scoff. “That’s the question of the day. This thing going on lately where I’m being more authoritative? They’re evaluating me.”

  “So, what’s your answer?” Justin pressed.

  “I’m not sure I have the correct answer. Parvis has been a terrific mentor and I’ve learned so much from him. When he learned his cancer had spread, he changed everything with tutoring me. Now, he’s focused only on teaching me how to manage. If and when I’m promoted, my effectiveness and competency are going to be repeatedly challenged. I’d like to think I’m up to the challenge, but the question is, is it worth losing friends over.”

  “How do you think us lowly Marines will fit in this equation?”

  “Ah, that’s an easy answer. We need to rebuild a standing military, and it needs to be sooner rather than later. I foresee you being the commanding officer of the military.”

  “You’re forgetting a few people, like General Fosswell and Captain Kitchens, and, for that matter, Ensign Boner.”

  “Captain Seth Kitchens is currently head-over-heels in love with a woman down in Lynchburg and he’s going to live there. He’ll jump in when we need him, but he has no desire to run the military. Ensign Boner is, as you know, currently in Marcus Hook. We didn’t make it commonly known, but his mission is to put together a semblance of a navy.”

  “You didn’t mention Fosswell,” he said.

  “Yes, he’ll be in charge, on paper, but when it comes to boots on the ground, it will be you.”