Desperate Times 2 Gun Control

by Nicholas Antinozzi

  Patty continued to pet Whiskers, and the fur continued to fall out in clumps. She seemed oblivious to it. “Okay,” she said with a bright-eyed smile.

  Jimmy stuck the sandwich into his mouth and opened the door to the basement with his free hand. “See you at lunch,” he said, taking the first stair and closing the wooden door behind him. He pulled the sandwich from his mouth and took the three steps down to the outside door. Jimmy could see Doc out there twenty yards from the house, seated on top of the picnic table and facing out into the woods. Once again, Jimmy stuck the sandwich in his mouth as he pulled opened the outside door.

  Doc turned at the sound of the screen door slapping back into place. He waved at Jimmy and smiled. Jimmy then chomped down on the sandwich and pulled it away with his free hand. He walked slowly, careful not to spill the still steaming cup of coffee. He sat down next to Doc. “How’s it going?” Jimmy asked. “Have you seen Patty’s cat? I think you need to take a look at her.”

  “I already did,” Doc said, with just a touch of resignation in his voice. “I think its dying.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  “You can say that again.”

  Jimmy went to take another bite of his sandwich and froze with it just two inches from his open mouth. The sandwich was coated with cat hair. Jimmy’s stomach lurched, and he flung the remainder of the sandwich out into the woods. He then turned and looked over his shoulder up to the house. The sun felt warm on his skin, and he guessed it to be in the mid-sixties, which was rare these days. A woodpecker hammered against a nearby tree as a bumblebee floated lazily in front of them. Jimmy wiped at the corners of his mouth and tried to forget about the sandwich.

  “You know we have to get back there, don’t you?” Doc asked. “We can’t stay here.”

  Jimmy did know that. He had been fighting the urge to leave for weeks. Life without Julie had been hard, and he missed her more with each passing day. Still, he knew that he owed a great debt to the Dahlgrens, and it would be very difficult to leave them behind. “What about the others?” Jimmy asked. “How are we going to talk them into leaving here?”

  Doc paused and looked up to the sky. “I don’t think wild horses could pull Ken and Patty away from this place. This is their home.”

  “I can’t imagine Ken lasting two hours over there. That’s not his scene, man.”

  Doc chuckled at that. “No,” he said, “I highly doubt Ken would groove on life in a commune. I think it would blow his mind.”

  Now it was Jimmy’s turn to laugh. He tried to imagine Ken growing out his hair and trying to fit in with the hippies. Jimmy found that he couldn’t do it. Ken was too set in his ways, and he wouldn’t understand what was going on over there—not in a million years. Jimmy even had a hard time grasping it and he considered himself very open-minded. “We wouldn’t be that far away. We could come back and check on them whenever we wanted to.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. We could visit every week or so. I do think they’ll be fine out here alone during the winter months. The snow will be here soon, and the roads will be impassable until at least April. That will keep the riffraff out, and God knows they have plenty of beef stew to last another decade.”

  “What about Burt and Rita?” Jimmy asked.

  “I’m not sure. Burt is a lot like Ken. I’m not all that certain that he’d like it over there. What do you think?”

  Jimmy thought about it and he shook his head. “You’re right. I can’t see him digging that lifestyle.”

  “We can ask him, but we’ll have to be upfront with him on what he can expect. I’ll mention it to Rita, but I highly doubt she’d ever leave Patty.”

  “How do you think Patty will handle us leaving? She seems pretty strong now that Whiskers is here. Almost like her old self.”

  “That stupid cat is what has me worried.”

  Jimmy stared over at Doc, but the bearded man would not return his gaze. Jimmy didn’t know what to say. “What about Whiskers?” He asked, immediately wishing he hadn’t.

  Doc turned to Jimmy with fire in his eyes. “That damn cat traveled over two hundred miles just to come up here and die? My head hurts just thinking about it. Our dear Patty is in denial, and she’s going to be crushed. Ken won’t talk about it. He is just so happy to have his wife back. Can you blame him? We have to leave here. I can feel it in my bones. We’re going to be snowed in soon, and I don’t want to be stranded here.”

  Doc had never spoken so sharply to Jimmy, and he reeled back from where he sat on the picnic table. “Oh,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” said Doc. “I just have a bad feeling about all of this. I didn’t mean to dump all of it on you.”

  Ken and Burt showed up at just before noon. They had taken the Mack, and Jimmy heard the diesel long before the truck rolled up in the driveway. Jimmy and Doc pulled back the lock and swung open the heavy gate, allowing Ken to drive inside. The day was warm, and the sun shone above them in a vivid blue sky.

  Ken was the first to step out of the truck. He carried a silver boom-box in one hand and a brown shopping bag in the other. “Take these,” he said to Jimmy, “and come around to the back. I want to show you what we picked up.”

  Jimmy hoisted the boom box onto his shoulder. He heard the front screen door slap shut and turned to see Patty heading down the stairs. Jimmy smiled and pointed to the boom box. Patty nodded and returned the smile.

  Ken flipped the latch and tugged up on the roll-up door. The cargo area was stacked waist high with supplies. A bright red generator sat at the back end. Burt and Doc joined them at the back, and Doc whistled at the sight of their big haul.

  Ken nudged Jimmy’s arm. “Look up toward the front. Do you see those green crates? We came across those in the basement of a farm house. The guy had a fake wall. Burt found them.”

  “What the hell are they?”

  “Two .50 caliber automatic weapons and a ton of ammunition. There’s also a crate of grenades, and I’ll be damned if they don’t look live.”

  “You found a generator,” exclaimed Patty, “and a boom box? You did leave a note with our address, didn’t you? We agreed on that, remember?”

  “Of course I did,” said Ken without an ounce of conviction.

  “Let me take those from you,” Patty said to Jimmy, peering inside the shopping bag that was full of compact discs. “Carly Simon, Neil Diamond, Barbara Streisand... Thank you so much! Does this thing have batteries?”

  “Yes, and we have a hundred more to fit it,” said Ken with a smile. “We didn’t miss lunch, did we?”

  “Don’t worry. I held it for you. Give me about ten minutes.” Patty then gave them all a wide smile, kissed Ken on the cheek and walked away with her gifts.

  “Holy crap!” said Jimmy. “Hand grenades?”

  “I don’t like it,” said Doc. “What do any of you know about these weapons? Burt, have you ever thrown a hand grenade or fired a gun that size?”

  “Hell, no,” answered Burt. “But I sure as hell can learn.”

  “I wonder what happened to the guy who owned those.” Jimmy said. “Did you find him?”

  “The place was clear, and it didn’t look like anyone had been there,” said Burt, climbing up into the back of the van. “We were looking for winter gear. Can you believe this shit? Come on, let’s get this unloaded.”

  Jimmy and Doc exchanged knowing glances as they carried the treasure in through the garage door and into the basement. Finding all of this wasn’t going to make it any easier for them to convince the Dahlgrens to leave. There were stacks of cases of beer and soda, boxes of canned foods and candies, a fifty-five gallon drum of gasoline and enough top-notch winter gear for a small army. Jimmy’s heart sank a little more with each trip out to the van.

  The workshop was lit by two lanterns that provided a yellowish light. The men gathered around the new weapons. Jimmy watched as Ken and Burt unpacked the massive .50 caliber rifles. The guns looked sinister to him, almost as if could kill on their own. They
smelled of oil and looked nearly new.

  “This one is mine,” said Burt with something very close to pride in his voice.

  Doc must have picked up on it. “Do you have any idea what one of those can do to a human body?” he asked, with his long arms crossed at his chest. “I don’t even want to discuss the hand grenades.”

  Ken set the butt of his rifle on the floor, and the tip of the barrel nearly touched the dusty rafters above his head. “Sorry, but if you’re trying to make me feel guilty about having the firepower to protect us from God knows what, it’s not going to happen. Look Doc, I understand how you feel. I really do. These are different times.”

  Doc took a step back and looked up into the rafters. “Don’t you ever feel like we’re crossing a line and losing ourselves in the process? Think about it. What’s next, a Sherman tank? Maybe you’d like to run out and pick up a good flamethrower or some landmines. Or how about a bazooka?”

  “Talk to me when people begin to respect our right to exist,” growled Ken, admiring the sleek lines of the rifle. You can think what you want, Doc. We open up with these, and I think people will think twice about messing with us.”

  Jimmy backed up next to Burt, and they exchanged a look. Both men carried a good argument, and neither was backing down.

  Doc’s hands fell to his hips, and he turned on Ken. “Maybe those guns are going to have the opposite effect. People are going to want them.”

  “They’ll have to pry them…” Ken began, before Doc cut him off in a booming voice.

  “I know, out of your cold dead hands! And who is going to look after your wife? Have you thought about that? Look what we’ve become! You’re not protecting us from an approaching army. We’re killing our neighbors. My God, man, it’s time to come up with a new plan.”

  “Oh,” Burt said, jumping into the fray. “And what would that be? Should we open the gate and tie a white sheet on the flagpole? You can kiss my ass.”

  “There’s no need for that,” Jimmy said, trying to put an end to this argument. “Let’s all calm down. Patty is probably looking for us.”

  Ken returned his rifle to the open crate and stood up. “We go back a long ways, Doc. And I respect your opinion. I think it’s time that we both agreed to disagree. There aren’t many of us left and we need to be strong.”

  Doc was still staring at Burt. “How old are you, Burt?” he asked. “I’m sixty, and if you want to rumble, just say the word. Don’t you ever speak to me like that again, do you understand me?”

  Jimmy felt helpless as he watched the situation spiral out of control. Burt pushed past him and walked to within a foot of the taller man. “I’ll speak however the hell I choose,” Burt growled. “You want to rumble? Let’s go.”

  “This is crazy,” Ken said, holding his arms up. “Knock it off!”

  Doc stared at Burt for a moment and then turned and headed for the door. Burt followed, hot on his heels. The screen door to the garage slapped twice, and Jimmy stared at Ken, open-mouthed. “This is bad,” he said as he followed Ken into the garage and out into the bright sunlight.

  Doc led Burt to the middle of the frost-flattened lawn. He turned and settled into some type of karate fighting pose. He suddenly looked to Jimmy like Paul Bunyan in a Jackie Chan movie. He crouched low and held one of his large hands up by his ear while holding the other out in front of him in an angry claw. His face was red, and his nostrils were flared. Jimmy had never seen the man like this.

  “I forbid this!” Ken screamed.

  Burt stood with his back to Jimmy and Ken. The dark-skinned man was rolling his head like a boxer before the bell. He raised his fists and moved in like a freight train.

  “Stop this!” shrieked Patty from the deck above them. “Ken, get out there and make them stop!”

  “I’m trying!” Ken shouted back at her.

  Jimmy couldn’t take his eyes off of the fight. At first he had been worried that Burt would tear Doc apart. Burt wasn’t as tall as Doc, but he was thick and wide in the shoulders. He was also a cop, retired or not. Jimmy soon gained a new respect for Doc, watching as he deftly avoided Burt’s punches.

  “I’m warning you,” Doc hissed to Burt. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Show me what you got,” beckoned Burt.

  “Kenneth!” screamed Patty.

  That got Ken moving, but by then it was too late. Burt had ducked his head and charged Doc with his arms opened wide. Jimmy thought he looked pretty spry for a man of his years. Doc twisted, and with a speed and agility that astonished everyone, he kicked Burt in the upper arm with the toe of a giant hiking boot. There was a snapping sound, and Burt howled in pain.

  “You son of a bitch, you broke my arm!”

  “I warned you,” Doc shouted back, holding his large hands in the air. “You all heard me!”

  “What did you do that for?” Burt continued on, holding his arm painfully. “You didn’t need to do that, you bastard.”

  “Oh my God!” exclaimed Patty.

  “You all heard me!” Doc repeated. “I warned him!”

  “We heard you. Now you’re going to have to fix it!” Ken snapped back. “You both get in the house, and I want that arm in a cast.”

  Jimmy stood back and watched the comedy of errors play out. He felt terrible for both men. Ken continued to berate both of them as Patty rushed to Burt’s side. Doc held his hands over his face and looked as if he were about to cry. Rita charged out of the house and took the steps two at a time. Jimmy shook his head and returned to the basement. He tore open the cardboard on one of the cases of beer and removed one of the warm cans. He then popped the top and he drank.

  Chapter 14

  The next few weeks were windy and gray; drizzle fell from the sky, and what little foliage had been left on the trees was now gone. Jimmy spent many hours standing in the porch window. He would stare off at the lake, but he was there to keep an eye on the gate. Some part of him expected to see Julie standing out there, while more parts of him thought this to be an outlandish idea. Jimmy felt a knot growing in his stomach as he thought about what Doc had said. They were going to be snowed in soon.

  Burt and Doc had made their peace, but Jimmy noticed that the good friends no longer had deep conversations. Long before they fought, they had argued good-naturedly about how the country had come to this point and about what needed to be done to fix it. Jimmy hadn’t known much about politics before arriving up at the lake, but he could now tell the difference between a liberal and a conservative. Jimmy was worried about the loss of their banter. Had politics suddenly become off limits? Both men had made great arguments, and Jimmy had listened to many. He would watch as Doc’s face got red and his bushy eyebrows twitched; then he would turn to Burt and see fire in his brown eyes and deep creases in his forehead.

  Burt had grown quiet, and Jimmy wondered if Doc didn’t have him on something for the pain. Jimmy thought this might be the case—at least he hoped it was. The white plaster cast contrasted sharply with Burt’s ebony skin. Doc’s words and conversations had grown increasingly shallow over recent days. He shied away from giving his opinion, and he spent a lot more time reading than he had in the past.

  Whiskers had grown bald in spots and moved lethargically when she moved at all. Jimmy rarely saw her eat. No one would speak about Whiskers, and the skinny cat slowly became the elephant in the room. Ken and Patty were spending a lot of time in their bedroom at the back of the house with the door open while Patty knitted and Ken strummed the strings of his twelve-string guitar. Ken was a fair guitar player in Jimmy’s mind, which was something he’d tried to pick up a few times in the past. The music would echo inside the quiet house, and Jimmy found it soothing. Rita had also drawn into herself. She would join Jimmy at the front window, and the two of them would exchange knowing smiles. Those smiles were growing sadder. There was no mistaking that.

  Jimmy could feel the house closing in on them.

  He wondered about how the others were doing—Julie m
ostly—but he also wondered how Cindy was faring in school and how Bill was doing at his job. Had Julie and Bill settled their differences? Jimmy hoped so. He thought about how things were at Bailey’s. Jimmy also thought about his own limited transferable skills. What did he really have to offer a group in such a society? These were humbling thoughts, and they shook him to his very core. Jimmy had hated working in the kitchen. Working there had seemed a challenge to his manhood. This, too, stuck to the back of his head like a magnet on steel. He wouldn’t go back there to work in the kitchen, and this thought made Julie seem farther away.

  The skies finally cleared, and the air became crisp. A skim of ice formed on the lake, and Jimmy found himself suddenly dreading winter. He began to hike in the mornings, and he foraged inside the empty cabins and houses along the way. This was how he discovered the snowmobiles. Jimmy had come across a comfortable log home that looked as if someone had used it for target practice. There were bones in the yard, stripped clean by the wolves, and Jimmy avoided looking at them. He went inside and found that the house had been ransacked, perhaps many times. Yet Jimmy had found enough small treasures to nearly fill his backpack. The undisturbed pole shed sat way in the back of the heavily wooded property. Jimmy thought that it had likely been hidden out there by the leaves.