Desperate Times 2 Gun Control

by Nicholas Antinozzi

  Jimmy nodded his head in agreement, even if he didn’t like Pluto’s slang.

  “Okeedokie,” said Pluto, motioning for Jimmy to take a seat at the table. “Let me shed some light on that brain of yours. We are pacifists here. Bill says you might try to lay your hands on some guns. That would be a bad plan.”

  Jimmy gritted his teeth and vowed to never speak to Bill again.

  Pluto stroked his beard as he spoke. He had yellowish teeth and fingernails, and Jimmy guessed him to be somewhere closer to seventy five. His piercing blue eyes never seemed to leave Jimmy’s own. “I own all of this. I call the shots. I make the rules.”

  Jimmy couldn’t let that pass. “I thought you called the shots as a team, the same way you made up the rules.”

  Pluto smiled. “Good point,” he said, lacing his long fingers together in front of him. “I should have said that differently. Think of our little community as a big ball of clay. I had to form it into that ball, and I had to do it alone, you dig? I decided that guns were out. Guns kill people. Don’t you believe any of that bullshit anyone tells you. Guns kill people, and I don’t like guns. Men may trade punches, but take the firearms out of the equation and both fighters will likely walk away. I’ve seen enough death, man.”

  “We all have,” said Jimmy. “I just think that you’re taking a huge risk.”

  “Oh, really?” Pluto asked, looking amused. He sat back in his chair and spread his hands before him. “Even if, and I’m saying this just for argument’s sake, even if everyone here carried a gun, how long do you suppose we could hold out against a group of determined men? You’ve seen the people here. Which one of them would you want to have your back in a foxhole? We’re not fighters, and we’ll never be fighters. Not that any of it matters because this is about so much more than that.”

  Jimmy thought about that as he glanced over at the three vultures picking apart his Polaris. Pluto was right; he certainly wouldn’t trust any of them with his back, especially Bill.

  Pluto continued. “This is still the United States, and we have to remember who we are. We’re not blood-thirsty killers. We’re trying to make a stand here by doing what’s right. We’re trying to set an example up here for the whole world to see. That’s why the National Guard doesn’t bother us. We have nothing to hide, and we pose no threats. Everyone is welcome here, providing they check their weapons at the gate.”

  “What if they refuse to check their weapons and come in, anyhow?”

  “There is always that unfortunate risk, for that is the nature of man. We have to assume that risk and deal with it when the time comes.”

  “What happened to your voice?” Jimmy asked with a smile. “Don’t you mean, when the time comes, man?”

  Pluto smiled and nodded his head in defeat. “You saw through my little act. Please keep it to yourself, if you don’t mind. Let me explain. You didn’t experience the sixties or even the seventies. Those were beautiful times. We had a revolution that swept the country, and we became a force. Those first flower children started a wave that washed the blood from the eyes of an entire country. You should have seen it. We were making love, not war. We began to demand changes in how things were done. We demanded that people begin to see that we were all in this together. We demanded civil rights!”

  Jimmy listened as Pluto built up steam. He was standing now, pacing behind the table, and he suddenly pointed at Jimmy.

  “You should have seen us. We organized marches and rallies. We quit tolerating racism and sexism. We stood against the war. We were punched and kicked and called names, but we stood our ground. You won’t find this in any history books, but the hippies of the sixties changed everything. I should know. I was one of them. Things didn’t change overnight, but our belief system gradually took root, and it continues to grow. Our first liberty is the pursuit of peace and tranquility, young man. Don’t you ever forget that. We stood for peace, and we will continue to do so. I’m trying to get people to identify with that era. I’m doing it with language. You’ll see; it’ll grow on you, man.”

  An air compressor suddenly sprang to life, and the shop vibrated with sound. Pluto got up from the table and checked his kettle. Jimmy thought about what he’d just been told. He then began to wonder what would have happened if Ken’s group had simply joined up with the group at the Birkland Lodge. How many people had died? What had they died for? Then he thought about Sister Margaret and her followers. Jimmy shook his head. What would have happened if they had also joined them? He knew one thing for sure: his friend Jon would still be alive.

  Pluto set a cup in front of Jimmy. He had never tried tea in his life, but he sipped at it, and he found that it wasn’t half bad. “Thank you,” he said.

  “And who says that real men don’t drink tea?” Pluto asked, sipping from his own cup. He then sat down and smiled, but the smile was tired, and his eyes were weary. “Look, I know what you’re thinking. We are taking a huge risk up here. We understand that. Life is full of risks, young man. You have to stand up for what you believe in or nobody is going to listen to your message. No matter what we do, there is always going to be someone out there with the means to take this from us. They could very well kill us all. Our defense is that they can have it and that there is no need for bloodshed. Even if we had a hundred guns, someone would show up with a thousand. That’s the insanity of war. We won’t have it here.”

  Jimmy nodded. “Fair enough,” he said. “I’m not sure that I’m one hundred percent behind all of this, but you make a good point.”

  “Fair enough,” said Pluto. He then took a sip of his tea and sighed. “The truth is that we’re all flying by the seat of our pants these days. Nobody has any idea of what to do next or when things will return to normal, if they ever do. We just don’t want to lose sight of who we are. I don’t want to kill anyone. Look at me. I’m an old man. I just want us to make our stand, right here. We’re the last of the hippies, and we have to survive all of this to ensure that people hear our message. Love is all you need, man.”

  Those words would ring inside Jimmy’s ears for a long time.

  Chapter 18

  The next few weeks passed slowly, but Jimmy found that despite everything that had happened the change of scenery had been good for him. Snow continued to fall, and it soon was nearly impossible to walk where it hadn’t been shoveled. He missed the Dahlgrens. He thought of them often, but it was good to see new faces and to develop new routines. Jimmy got used to eating organic foods, and he was amazed at how much better he felt. Venus dealt him a severe blow when she told him that Julie wouldn’t see him. Jimmy had sat with her twice before she had delivered that message. “This is a hard thing for her,” Venus had said. “But it will pass.”

  Jimmy asked about her every day, but almost three weeks later, Julie still refused to see him. Doc fell back into his practice and into the beatnik lifestyle. He began wearing love beads and sunglasses, and he would flash Jimmy a peace sign when he saw him, but they seldom talked. Jimmy knew that he still held him responsible for Julie’s injury. Meanwhile, he spent his days with the mechanics, and he soon had the shop looking as he felt it should—clean and orderly.

  Music seemed to follow him everywhere. When he was in the shop, Big Al would usually play classic rock and occasionally some country. When Jimmy ventured out into the commons areas, he would usually run into small groups of musicians as they practiced. Some of these musicians seemed awfully talented to Jimmy, but since no one ever used last names in the camp, he never knew if he was listening to anyone of note.

  There were some rules to get used tom and what surprised Jimmy was how everyone seemed to follow them, despite the lack of a police force or even a formal disciplinary policy. A few families wandered into their camp, the last stragglers in what had become the great northern migration. They seemed to adjust quickly to the way things were run, and most seemed eager to prove their worth. Jimmy thought that when people worked for pride and not money, almost nothing was impossible. He
also thought that by setting a standard and providing a clean shop and a positive attitude, he had rubbed off on the men he worked with. They no longer took naps after breakfast, and gradually they began to work as a team and attack what needed their attention.

  Jimmy stayed close to Bill while he was out of the shop, and it worked fairly well for protection from unwanted advances. Venus would remind him every so often that she was keeping a close eye on him. Jimmy would assure her that she had nothing to worry about. As the days turned to weeks, this became more of a challenge. More than one of the women in camp had made it clear to him that she was interested. Some still fawned after him, while others were more subtle. He would think of Julie and her plaster face, and that was usually enough to guide him through temptation. That didn’t mean that it was always easy.

  He didn’t think it was fair of Julie to shut him out like she had. He began to resent that, and the feeling was undeniable. He wondered what she would look like when Doc removed the cast. Yet he knew in his heart that she was the woman for him as long as she would have him. He would love her no matter how she looked.

  Jimmy learned more about Mars in the coming days. He had spent six years in the Army, and his skills were in organization. He set the schedule and made sure everyone knew what was expected of them. Jimmy was amazed at how he seemed to have an answer to each and every problem they faced. “Work smart,” Mars would say. He was good at matching people to problems, and the result was a well-oiled machine. Jimmy couldn’t help notice that he seemed to go through women like there was no tomorrow. All he could do was watch with a little envy as Mars spent time with a multitude of women.

  Wart caught him watching Mars one day in the mess hall. “I’d give my left arm to be that dude,” Wart had said. “But, if there was ever a contest, I’d put my money on you. He’s burning through these chicks like cigarettes, man. They’re onto his shit.”

  Jimmy shrugged his shoulders and took another bite of his rice. “Maybe,” he said, “but that’s his business, and it has nothing to do with me. Remember, he’s single and can see who he wants. I’m not.”

  “That’s right. And when was the last time you saw your Julie?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “All I’m saying is that he’s not even in your league, man,” Wart whistled in his distinctive voice. “You could have any of those babes. All you’d have to do is snap your fingers.”

  Jimmy wasn’t taking the bait. Wart talked to Bill, which meant that anything he talked about would be yesterday’s news in only minutes. Still, he couldn’t help thinking about what Wart had asked him. When was the last time that he had spoken to Julie? He knew it had been over a month, maybe as long as six weeks. Venus continued to reassure him that Julie was healing and would soon want to see him. She explained that Julie’s wounds were more than skin deep and that those wounds took longer to heal. Jimmy had spent many hours reflecting on what had happened on that terrible day, and the passing of so much time had only muddied the waters. With each passing day, Jimmy felt less responsible for Julie’s injuries and angrier that she still refused to see him.

  The days became shorter. Christmas came and went, and the New Year ushered in bitter subzero temperatures. Jimmy began spending more and more time locked up in the shop. He had a new admirer, and as much as he tried, he was having a hard time keeping her out of his thoughts. She was an Asian woman about Jimmy’s age with long black hair and piercing brown eyes. She had arrived alone on a pair of cross-country skis the week before the holidays, and her name was Jasmine.

  Jimmy wasn’t the only one to notice her. Mars seemed immediately smitten with her, and Jimmy watched as he gave her the white glove treatment. Although he couldn’t be sure, Jimmy thought she had spurned his advances. She said it with her eyes.

  Once Mars followed her eyes, and it was as if a light bulb flashed. Jimmy quickly averted his gaze, but there was no mistaking the accusing look that the Equal had flashed him. That was when Jimmy began to avoid the commons. Jasmine seemed like a very nice girl, even if he had never spoken to her. He just didn’t want the temptation. Besides, Mars was obviously interested in her, and the right thing to do was to be out of the picture.

  Late at night, Jasmine and Julie would duke it out in his dreams.

  Chapter 19

  One afternoon at the end of January, Jimmy heard the familiar buzz of a high-performance snowmobile engine. Doc had been allowed to keep his trusty Skidoo, and he puttered around on it to make house calls. Jimmy could see it parked outside Julie’s shuttered cabin each day just after breakfast and an hour before dinner. The sound he now heard was definitely not the Skidoo. The snowmobile buzzed straight up to the shop, and the engine was killed. A moment later there was a knock at the door.

  “Get that, will ya, Jimmy?” Big Al called from behind him. “If its Gloria, tell her I’m not here. Okay?”

  Jimmy smiled. He thought of Gloria as the female Bill Huggins. That wasn’t quite right, but it was close enough. Gloria had obviously discovered steroids and was probably the strongest person in the camp. She had Popeye arms and a Neanderthal forehead, and Jimmy guessed that she weighed in at somewhere around two hundred pounds, not an ounce of which was fat. Gloria was a big woman, and nobody knew that better than Big Al, who now sported what he called love bruises on his arms.

  Jimmy opened the door, but he only found Tony Clerk standing outside in the cold. Tony quickly stepped inside and unzipped his jacket. “Hey Jimmy,” he said with a smile. “You’re just the guy I’m looking for.”

  “Good detective work, man,” said Jimmy.

  “Thanks, brother,” Tony said. “There’s this big black dude down at the gate, and he’s looking for ya. He says his name is Burt.”

  Jimmy smiled, thanked Tony, and ran to find his Sorel boots.

  The day had been cold, but there had been no wind, and the sky hadn’t been this blue since mid-October. Jimmy wore his Columbia jacket and jogged all the way down to the gate, wishing he had asked Tony what Burt had wanted. Had something happened to Ken and Patty? Had they been overrun? Maybe they had been taken by the Guard. Jimmy was out of breath by the time he arrived at the gate. Burt Sharpen stood there, holding a semiautomatic hunting rifle. Jimmy could see that Burt was genuinely glad to see him, and he took that as a good sign. He suddenly wondered how Burt would feel about their no-gun policy.

  “Jimmy,” Burt said. “Would you please explain to these fine men that I am a Minneapolis Police Detective, and that it is not only my right to carry a weapon, it is my duty as a sworn peace officer.”

  Standing next to Burt was Tony’s partner, Myron. Jimmy had never liked this man, and he wondered why anyone had thought it was a good idea to grant him any power. Jimmy thought he had a classic case of short-man syndrome. Myron eyed Burt and grinned. “Then you are going to have to get a warrant,” he said with a smug grin.

  “Jimmy?” Burt asked. “I’m trying to be patient here. Tell your man that I’m all right. Ask him to stand down.”

  “Look,” Jimmy said. “He’s on the level, man. He’s a cop, and it’s the law. He does have to carry a gun.” Jimmy had no idea if that were true or not, it just seemed like the right thing to say.

  “He’s not getting in!” shouted Myron.

  “The hell I’m not,” said Burt. “Move it or lose it, buddy.”

  Myron smiled, and Jimmy saw nothing but emptiness. This man had probably been a bar bouncer somewhere, and he looked eager to prove himself. He went for Burt’s rifle, meaning to snatch it away from him. Burt was waiting for him. The butt of the rifle suddenly shot up and caught Myron right in the middle of his square jaw. His feet flew up in the air, and Myron landed flat on his back. The second he opened his mouth in protest, Burt shoved the barrel of his police revolver down the man’s throat.

  “Don’t think it, don’t say it. I am a police officer, and I don’t give two shits what you think. You will never take my weapon. No one takes my weapon!” Burt was now kneeling on Myr
on’s chest, his eyes blazing fire. “Nod your head if you understand that.”

  Myron nodded.

  Half an hour later, Jimmy and Burt stood in a conference room before the Equals. Tony Clerk and Myron stood on their end of the big table. Jimmy guessed this was their version of court. The biggest difference here was that the defendant was heavily armed.

  “That’s when he stuck his gun in my mouth!” Myron was ranting. “I refuse to be treated that way. I want him out of here!”

  “Myron,” Mars said. “Mellow out, man.”

  “Yes,” agreed the grizzled Pluto. “This isn’t about what you want. This is a much deeper issue. I’ve seen the man’s credentials, and they look legit to me. The question here is what we should do about him.”

  “He stuck a gun down my goddamn throat!”