When A Plan Comes Together

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When A Plan Comes Together Page 10

by Jerry D. Young


  “Betta and me…” Hermann said, “We stay here. Right Mama?”

  “Ja, Hermann. We can be fisherman like my Papa’s Papa.”

  “Okay,” Jay said. “I think that’s a good decision for you.” He looked at Antonio. “You’ll be wanting to stay and help…”

  “Nein,” Hermann said. “Antonio only wanted to get to America. He no need to stay and help. Will find Captain Sugarman and make deal.”

  “Herr Hoffer, you have been very good to me. I will stay and work for you.”

  “Nein, nein,” Hermann said with a wave of his meaty hand. “You are young man. Have your own life. Good sailor, Ja, but not the life you want.”

  “Are you sure, Herr Hoffer?” Antonio asked.

  “Ja.”

  Betta added her own “Ja.”

  That settled it for Antonio. He turned to Jay and said, “I’d kind of like to tag along. Find some place I can make my home. The Hoffers’ are right. I don’t really want a life at sea.”

  “I’ll be glad to have you along, Antonio. Thanks.”

  It was Dr. Tanner’s and Sue’s turn to look at one another.

  “I’ve had enough of the sea, too,” Sue told Marcus. “It was fun for a while, but this last trip is all I want. I’m ready for some dry ground and a clinic to take care of.”

  “That’s about the way I feel, too. Don’t know if it will be in Reno, Jay, but we’d like to tag along until you get there. We may stay or we may continue, like Antonio. We make a good team.”

  “If you are really sure and aren’t just offering because of my arm, I’d pleased to travel with you to Reno. But that is where I’ll be stopping, as long as my family is there. And I think they will be. We have this plan, you see…”

  Everyone was nodding. The decisions made, Antonio went about transferring the last of the diesel from the drum to the fuel tank in the boat. He went looking for Jenkins.

  Jay and Hermann went to talk to Harbormaster Smithson and make arrangements for a permanent slip for Fraulein Betta. Marcus and Sue stayed aboard to keep Betta company and keep an eye on things while the other men were gone.

  When Jay and Hermann returned, Antonio was helping a very old looking, but quite spry man, loading an empty drum on a dolly. It was the last of the drums. With a rather grouchy, “Anymore and I’ll pay the same. No more than that, though. And keep it to yourself.”

  Antonio was grinning when he joined Jay and Hermann at the stern of Fraulein Betta. He handed Jay a handful of shiny silver coins. “I’ve got a one ounce round plus a quarter and a dime for each one of the drums.”

  “You’re the regular little haggler there, aren’t you?” Jay said as the others laughed.

  Antonio laughed, too. “Sure. I guess that’s what I’d do if I could. Horse trader, I think the term is here. Buy and sell, barter, and trade for things to make a living.” His grin faded. “Not sure how I can get started, though.”

  Jay smiled, but said nothing. They boarded the boat again, and Jay pulled out several gold coins. “Hermann, Betta, these are for you, for letting me come with you, and delivering me safe to shore.”

  “Nein! Nein!” Hermann and Betta both shouted.

  “You pay for food and fuel. Worked hard. Lost your arm. You keep gold for family!” Hermann was insistent.

  But so was Jay. When he felt he owed a debt, he paid it. He put half the gold he’d offered back in his pocket. The rest he put on the dining table. “It is yours. You will need a cushion until you start getting an income from fishing.”

  Hermann and Betta whispered to each other in German, and then Hermann said, “Ja. But you come back sometime and you have place with the Hoffers.”

  Jay shook Hermann’s hand firmly. Betta took the gold and it disappeared somewhere in her clothing.

  “And while we’re settling debts…” Jay said, he pulled out the gold again and made two similar stacks. “Doc, one is for you and Sue, for saving my life, and Antonio, for the same thing. You were a big part of getting me here, just like the Hoffers.”

  Another set of minor arguments ensued, but finally everyone took the gold Jay had offered. “Let’s go see what we can find for transportation, travel gear, and supplies for the trip to Reno.”

  With more handshakes, a few tears shed, and hugs all around, Hermann and Betta finally waved goodbye to Jay, Antonio, Marcus, and Sue. It took three days to put together what was needed for the journey to Reno. At Jay’s lament that he wished they had at least a gun or two, Antonio disappeared for most of the third day. He returned with a long, heavy bundle wrapped in an old blanket over one shoulder, and a large leather bag slung from the other.

  He made sure they weren’t in sight of anyone when he showed the others what he’d found. Jay smiled. He reached for a well-worn Colt .45 semiautomatic, but hesitated. It would be most difficult for him to reload the magazines. There was a large double action revolver in the bag next to the .45. Jay hefted it instead.

  It took him a few tries to learn how to hold the gun between his knees and open the cylinder to reload, but he decided he was better off with it than a semi-auto. He was rather thankful that Antonio had found plenty of .44 Special rounds for the gun, though it was chambered for .44 Magnums. He’d shot both before, and the .44 Magnum was more than he wanted to handle.

  The .44 Magnums he let Dr. Tanner have for the Marlin lever action carbine Antonio had picked up for him. There was a Bersa .380 semi-auto pistol for Sue. Antonio took the .45 semi-auto and the Mini-14 .223 carbine for himself. He only had three magazines for the Bersa, but had managed to get eight 20 round Ruger Factory Mini-14 magazines, despite the pre-war restriction on them in California. There was enough ammunition, they all hoped, to get them safely to Reno.

  With decent camp gear they got for very little, an expensive heavy duty four wheel yard cart, and provisions that cost more than all the rest of the gear put together, the four set off on foot, with the three men taking turns pulling the wagon. Jay insisted on taking a turn. Taking the warnings they received from others besides Captain Sugarman, they traveled cautiously.

  The wagon kept them on roads or good trails, but they traveled mostly at night and camped during the day. They saw people moving on the main routes during the day, but the night was theirs alone.

  They settled into an easy routine, traveling eight to ten miles a night on the roads. They swung south and west around Sacramento, and then cut north to pick up Interstate 80. There was traffic moving on the interstate, mostly horses and horse drawn wagons, about equal amounts going each way. There were also many people afoot.

  The group attached itself, after being invited, to a group of Mormons headed for Salt Lake City from their various homes in California. Being with a group, Jay and the others didn’t mind switching to daytime travel and nighttime sleep. Plus they only had to pull a watch every few days rather than every other day.

  Still, traveling by foot was a slow process, especially after they got into the mountains. But finally Interstate 80 cut across McCarran Boulevard, on the west side of Reno, and Jay, Antonio, Marcus, and Sue turned north. The Mormons decided to follow that route, as well, since it kept them further from the demolished airport. McCarran crossed I-80 again on the east side of town, and the Mormons would pick it up again.

  Jay, walking as fast as he could without running, turned north on one of the local roads. It led to the subdivision where he lived. The others kept pace, understanding Jay’s eagerness to get home to see about his family. From what they’d heard, there were survivors all around the west and northern sections of the city.

  When the sound of a shot was heard and then two more, Jay drew up short. Then he began to run. He turned onto his street and heard a voice screaming at someone. He heard what he was sure was his son and wife yelling at who had to be the shooter. Jay stopped again, changed directions, and went behind the row houses on the side of the street opposite of his, before getting up to a run again. He came past one more house and there was a man with a rifle pointed
toward his son, Rex, who was lying on the ground. His dear wife, Kathy, stood on the porch of their house with a carbine pointed toward the man with the rifle.

  She yelled “Put down the gun, Dave!” Jay realized it was one of their nearby neighbors, Dave Monroe that had shot his son and was threatening his family with violence.

  “No! You put yours down!” Dave screamed back. “I’ve got the boy’s head right in my sights. I’ll pop it like a watermelon if you don’t lay down your guns and come out into the street.”

  “Don’t do it, Mom!” Rex said through clenched teeth. “You know what it means. I don’t think he can shoot fast enough to get me. Shoot him.”

  “Shut up, boy!” screamed Dave. “I’ll put a shot in your guts first, if they don’t lay down their guns and come out into the street.

  Jay didn’t hesitate any longer. The big revolver came up, Jay got a quick sight picture and pulled the trigger. The .44 Special was less powerful than the .44 Magnum, but was more than enough to stop Dave.

  Dave stood there, the barrel of his twenty-two rifle slowly lowering. He felt a sting in his chest, minor compared to the pain in his rear left shoulder. He dropped the rifle, slowly turned around, and saw a one armed Jay Jones holding a revolver pointed at him. There was a sudden flash from the barrel of the revolver and Dave fell to the ground, the .44 Special bullet lodged in a rib after passing through his heart. Jay raised the revolver up over his head and stepped around the corner of the house, past Dave. “Don’t shoot!” he yelled to Kathy.

  And now you know the rest of the story.

  The End

  THANK YOU FOR READING “WHEN A PLAN COMES TOGETHER”

  By

  Jerry D. Young

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