Desperate Times

by Nicholas Antinozzi

  The Tahoe stopped at the gravel road, and three of the men got out with their guns and followed them on foot. They walked wordlessly for a while before the guards began to chat in quiet voices. Jimmy was able to pick up bits and pieces of what they said, and he didn’t like what little he heard. One man was quoting the Bible while others were adding Sister Margaret’s interpretation of those passages. They were justifying something, whatever it was that she had in store for them. Jimmy couldn’t hear it all and was glad for that. He had heard enough to know that the end was near. Paula had become a dead weight against his shoulder, and he held her around her waist to support her. She had both of her arms around his neck, hanging onto him stiffly as she shuffled along. Jimmy didn’t know if it was the drugs or her grief. Either way, Paula was a heavy burden to carry.

  They rounded the corner. Julie and Burt continued to lead the way. Jimmy wanted to join them, to explain how sorry he was for getting them all captured. That was out of the question since he had Paula to contend with. Couldn’t she be strong, even for a few minutes? Jimmy knew that it’d been only hours since she’d found out about her parents. Still, wasn’t that enough time to digest the news and walk without being propped up? Obviously it wasn’t. The closer they got to Ken’s, the heavier she became. By the time they reached the gate, Jimmy felt like he was wearing an anvil on a chain.

  They were marched into the back yard and up to the shed, the sunlight peeking through the tops of the pines. Women and children watched with disinterest from Ken and Patty’s lawn furniture. Jimmy watched a robin hopping along in the grass, oblivious to everything except its need for food. There were two men standing guard at the shed, and one of them opened the door.

  “Go on, get inside,” ordered one of the men. “You’re gonna get a little warm in there,” he added ominously.

  Julie and Burt went inside first, and Jimmy was relieved to hear Patty’s voice greeting them. He hadn’t known if any of the others were still alive. Dr. Benson and Carl followed. Paula and Jimmy were the last to enter as the door was slammed shut.

  The shed was roughly the size of a single-stall garage. The only light came from a small window on the west end. The towering pines above the shed allowed precious little of the sunlight to filter in. The air inside was warm and stale. The others were all there and backed away, giving them room to enter. Carl walked to the far the corner. Paula joined him, and they slid down into a sitting position. Jimmy was thankful to be rid of her. Cindy quickly replaced Paula, and she grabbed him around his aching neck and hugged him tightly.

  “I was so worried about you, Jimmy. Thank God you’re alive. Where’s Jon?” she asked.

  The others all looked to Jimmy expectantly.

  Jimmy gritted his teeth, took a deep breath and began telling the story. He included everything, even the part about him slipping at the top of the wall. He found that he could now talk about the experience without breaking down. Tears fell from the faces around him as he reached the end of the story.

  “Dear God,” said Patty. “Dear God…”

  Patty was soon clinging to him, her hot tears falling on his neck. She didn’t speak a word, and for some odd reason this is what bothered Jimmy the most. She’d been the backbone of the entire group, and now it seemed that she’d given up all hope. They all seemed to have given up, save for Ken. Ken paced the floor, deep in thought. Jon’s death had taken the wind out of their collective sails. That had simply hit too close to home. Patty let him go after a long embrace. Was it goodbye? Jimmy thought it felt like that, and his heart ached.

  “We’re in a spot here, Jimmy,” said Ken. “I tried talking with them, but there’s no reasoning with those fanatics. She’s even got Bill wrapped around her finger. For God’s sake, his daughter is out here. What sort of a person would allow that?” He then turned quickly to Cindy. “I’m sorry, honey. I hate to talk about your dad that way.”

  “Why not? It’s the truth,” spat Cindy. “He’s weak; he’s always been weak. God, I hate him!”

  “Don’t say that, dear,” said Patty. “You shouldn’t talk about your father that way.”

  Cindy rolled her eyes and she began to sob quietly. Rita took her into her arms, and they both sat on the cement floor weeping together.

  Ken joined Jimmy and Burt at the door. “We’re going to need help from the outside,” he whispered, still hoping for some sort of a miracle.

  “We’re done for,” said Burt, heavily.

  “That’s enough of that!” Ken growled, pointing a finger into Burt’s chest. “We’ve got to be prepared to take them on should the opportunity present itself. I’m not giving up, and damn it, neither are you!” He then turned to face the group. “Listen,” he said. “We’re going to get out of this. I know we are. I don’t know how yet. But I can feel it in my bones. Now we’ve got to toughen up. All of us!”

  “Right,” mocked Julie, from where she sat gloomily on the cement.

  Ken turned on her. “Knock that off. Don’t you think we all know what’s going on, here? Jimmy’s back with Paula. You’re hurt. Is that a good enough reason to just give up? And you,” he said, turning to face Burt. “Aren’t you a cop or something? I’d always thought that cops were tough? Is that all you have for us, tough guy? We’re done for? You’re a disgrace to the uniform.”

  “Ken,” said Jimmy.

  Ken cut him off. “Don’t start with me, Kid. Not now.”

  “Settle down,” Jimmy said, hoping Ken would do just that. Burt was looking at Ken, and Jimmy recognized the fire in his eyes. Burt was getting ready to strike, and there was very little room for two big men such as themselves to tangle in the small confines of the shed.

  “Settle down? Jimmy, I’m just getting started,” Ken said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He pointed a thick finger at him. “Look at yourself, will you? Pick yourself up and be a man, damn it! We’ve got to be ready to make a break for it. We’ve got to be ready to fight!”

  Paula began to sob, leaning her head into Carl’s chest.

  Ken whirled on Paula; his face was red with rage. “Can it, girl!” he said. “I’m sorry about your folks, we all are. I didn’t know them, but I’m sure they were good people. They’re gone and you’ve got to look beyond that. Grow a backbone! Quit dragging Jimmy down. We’re going to need him,” he said, pausing to kneel down in front of her. “Do you want to know what I’d do if some bastards murdered my parents? I’d be out for blood! I’d get me some payback, no matter what the odds were. That’s got to be front and center, young lady. Revenge! You’ve got the rest of your life to grieve over them. Am I making myself clear?”

  Jimmy was shocked to see Paula drying her eyes and that her expression had changed entirely. Something Ken had said struck a chord within her, and her eyes were suddenly glowing with anger.

  “Listen up, all of you!” Ken continued. “You’re all good people. We’re all good people. The good guys don’t give up. They never do. They fight with everything they’ve got until they take their very last breath. That’s what we’ve got to do now. Put everything that’s happened behind us. We’ve got to stick together. Let’s do it for Jon!”

  The room was utterly silent, and Jimmy took a deep breath and scanned the room. Ken was right; they couldn’t go down without a fight. From the looks on everyone’s faces, they all felt the same way.

  Jimmy could hear laughter coming from the two guards at the door. He tried to block them out and focused his anger on them and fed off of it.

  “All right,” said Burt. All right! You’re an asshole, you know that, don’t you?” he said to Ken.

  “The biggest asshole you’ve ever met,” answered Ken.

  “Stop it, you two!” exclaimed Patty.

  “Sorry, dear,” said Ken. “Okay, are you all with me? If anyone sees them give us an inch, take it and run with it. Maybe there’s a chance that someone out there still has an ounce of sanity. We’ve got to believe that. We’re not beaten—not yet anyhow. This is our home and we can’t
let them take it from us. Not without a fight!”

  “Okay,” said Julie, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Let’s kick some ass.”

  “I’m ready,” said Carl, who was now standing.

  “It’s payback time,” said Paula, who had also gotten to her feet, shocking Jimmy once again.

  Jimmy couldn’t help but smile. Ken had done it. He’d taken their defeated, misery-stricken group and turned their attention to the task at hand. He wished he’d left out the part about how he’d chosen Paula over Julie. He wondered about that as he watched the others pace the floor. What had gotten into Paula? How could Ken get her to snap out of it? And Julie, who had looked totally beaten only a moment ago, had regained the poise that had won his heart in the first place. A small patch of blood had oozed through her bandages, and once again Jimmy felt the rage building inside of him. They had done nothing but offer kindness to others around them. They had given refuge and medical attention to those people and this was how they were to be repaid? Jimmy’s blood boiled under the gravity of the situation. Jon had been killed because of that kindness; if he hadn’t invited Jenkins here, he’d still be alive. They’d find a way out of this. They had to. They would need help from the outside, and Jimmy knew of only one man who could give it to them.

  Bill Huggins.

  Thirty -Six

  Matthew 24:36 -- But of that day and hour, no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only. – (RSV)

  The inside of the shed grew darker as the afternoon passed. Jimmy peered up through the window into the darkening sky. Thunder growled in the distance. Raindrops began to fall in a slow but steady patter. The pattering increased to a low roar as the storm approached. Most of the group sat and looked up at the roof of the shed, as if it were about to collapse. A few bolts of lightning crashed somewhere close, but the storm quickly passed over them. Half an hour later, the only raindrops that fell were those left hanging on the pine limbs that fell aimlessly onto the roof. Sunlight began to filter in, and the little room began to get hot.

  “Damn,” whispered Jimmy to Ken. “Somehow I was hoping for a twister to take us all to Oz. I thought it might be some sort of a sign.”

  Ken nodded. “No such luck. It was just a squall. I’ll bet the fish were going nuts out there. I wish I’d have been out on the lake.”

  Jimmy chuckled. “Do you think Patty’s ever going to let you get into a boat again if there’s even a hint of a storm? Those days are over, boss.”

  “You’ve got that right,” agreed Patty.

  “Come on, what are the chances of lightning striking the same place twice?” asked Ken, a small grin on his face. “The odds are astronomical.”

  “Well, Kenneth, I suppose they’re exactly the same as you going back onto that lake during a storm. Does that answer your question?”

  “Perfectly,” muttered Ken.

  Jimmy laughed to himself. The small talk helped to lift his sagging spirits. He thought of all they’d been through. The last day at the Plant, the trip to Saint Cloud, the shootout at the rest area; he remembered it all. The road leading to this shed had been long and winding. He couldn’t believe that it was all going to end here. He wouldn’t believe it. Sweat ran from his underarms and dribbled down his side. The heat seemed to drain every ounce of strength from him. He knew it must be worse for the others. He looked at Burt who was sitting down by Dr. Benson. Both men were panting in the heat. They probably feel worse than I do, thought Jimmy.

  There was a commotion outside. Like the rain, it started softly and grew steadily with each passing minute. They were constructing something in the back yard. Jimmy listened and heard the unmistakable clanging of steel pipes. He wondered what they were up to. A long hour passed, then another. Jimmy wished he could see what was going on, but their little window looked out on the wrong side of the yard. The only thing he could see out there were the trunks of pines and their wall ten feet beyond. Muffled voices spoke outside the shed. They were getting ready to open the door. Somebody shouted: “Five more minutes!” from the back of the house.

  Ken stood and stretched. He looked like an Olympic athlete getting ready to compete. Jimmy knew that he was readying himself for a competition with much more at stake. He stood and followed Ken’s lead. His muscles ached, but they felt better the more he stretched them out. Soon everyone in the shed was stretching out. Jimmy fought the urge to laugh as desperation entered the room. What at first looked to be comical had taken on a solemn note. They were preparing their muscles for battle, the only weapons they had left in their arsenal.

  There was a loud commotion at the door, and all the stretching stopped as suddenly as it had begun. They weren’t about to show their pair of deuces to a full house. Not yet. The door was flung open and Glen Putnam stood there, a pistol in his hand, and he waved them out.

  “Let’s go,” ordered Putnam. “Sister Margaret is ready for you now.”

  Ken stood at the door and turned to give everyone the slightest of nods. Jimmy understood, as he thought they all did. This was it. They could go down like lambs being led to the slaughter, or they could fight down to the last one standing. Jimmy followed Patty out the door, and his stomach flopped inside of him. His worst fears had been realized. They were led to a small circular section of cyclone fencing that they must’ve removed from the back of Sally’s tennis court. The section was only eight feet tall, but it seemed impossibly high to Jimmy. At the back of the fence was a tall pile of brush standing at least ten feet high and nearly twice as wide. A five-gallon can of gasoline sat nearby. Jimmy groaned. They were ushered inside. Three men entered wearing grave faces and carrying strapping tape. They went to work immediately, binding the small group hand and foot. There would be no scaling the fence, thought Jimmy. Not now, not ever. Putnam closed the section of fence, securing it tightly with wire.

  “Face the house!” ordered Putnam.

  They exchanged glances. Jimmy saw something very close to hopelessness in those looks as he tried to put on his bravest face. They were surrounded by men with guns, and if there’d been a chance to run, it’d been lost. The back lawn was full of Sister Margaret’s followers. They stood in organized rows. An aisle ran down the middle. Music began to play, a familiar tune from Jimmy’s past. He recognized it as Onward Christian Soldiers, and the crowd began to sing along.

  Bill Huggins emerged from the back door. He was holding a Bible in both hands over his balding head. He was followed by Sister Margaret. Bill walked to a makeshift pulpit that they’d erected near the back door. Jimmy groaned. Bill seemed to have totally given himself to Sister Margaret. He didn’t even look at them. He walked up to the pulpit, set down the Bible and stood to the right of it. Sister Margaret walked slowly to the pulpit, her frazzled black hair looking to have been styled by a pack of angry rats. She wore a flowing red robe with a gold-trimmed white cross stitched across the front. She waited at the pulpit while the final verse of the song played to an end. Jimmy watched as Bill somberly shut off the portable CD player.

  “May the Lord be with you,” Sister Margaret began her voice dark and brooding.

  “And also with you, Sister Margaret,” chanted the congregation.

  “Let us pray,” Sister Margaret said, bowing her head.

  Jimmy watched in disgust as Bill bowed his head obediently. He’d been their final hope, and Jimmy could clearly see that he’d been wrong about Bill. He was wearing what must’ve been one of Ken’s old Sunday suits. The fit was terrible, and he looked like a complete stranger without his cap on. He was even freshly shaven which was obvious because Bill had a face that sprouted a five o’clock shadow by seven in the morning.

  “Lord, send us Your strength to do what needs to be done,” began Sister Margaret. “We know that You’ll be taking us all home soon, to share in the glory of Your Kingdom. Dear Lord, we know that we can’t ascend into Your presence until the last of the heretics are sent to the eternal fires of hell. Does anyone here see any reason to que
stion the mysterious ways of the Lord Our God? Is there a voice out there that needs to be heard?”

  “I’d like to say something,” said Ken, bravely.

  “Quiet, heathen!” shouted Sister Margaret.

  “Don’t I have that right?” continued Ken.

  “Shoot his wife if he speaks another word!” shouted Sister Margaret, her eyes blazing.

  Guns were leveled at Patty, and Ken swallowed hard. That was it, thought Jimmy, miserably. There was no one to speak up on their behalf. No sane voice to challenge this lunatic standing before them, who was using their misguided faith to commit wholesale murder.

  “I’d like to say something,” said Bill humbly.

  Jimmy felt his heart skip a beat. Could this be their ray of hope? Might Bill have something to say that could sway this crowd? Stay their executions? Jimmy hoped so and began to pray like he never had in his entire life.

  “I don’t want to watch,” he said, simply. “You can understand that, can’t you?”

  Sister Margaret smiled somberly and gave Bill a nod. “Go, William. We understand, perfectly. This can’t be easy for you. It isn’t easy for any of us. These are hard times, indeed. Go inside. I’ll join you in a few moments. We have to finish what the Lord has started.”

  “I understand, Sister Margaret. I just don’t want to watch.”

  “You’re free to leave, my son.”

  Bill turned, keeping his head bowed. He didn’t even glance at the others. He walked to the back door and entered the house, the screen door slapping shut behind him.