Circles in the Sand

by D. Sallen

  “Roger, now we got the right equipment, lets get back on that RADAR target. Use the deuce, the carryall and take Jewel, Hooper, Kline and Alcocke. Lance and I will take the Jeep/deuce and Jeep to set up target number two. Seems it’s the most remote one from mysterious Indians, mysterious sheepherders, and mysterious ranchers. Any questions?”

  Lance said, “How we gonna find that damn center?”

  “Same as that exercise on target one. Take the truck, drive three miles north, then best you can, three miles west. In the Jeep, I’ll come up from the south road and see how close we come to each other. We may have to do it a couple of times for any accuracy.”

  Each time they stopped, Clint and Lance planted a stake. They could see each other but were far apart. On the third try, Clint picked a spot he thought was in middle of the two vehicles, planted a stake and said, “This is it, period.”

  Lance drove the truck next to the Jeep. “You really think so, hunh?”

  “You bet. I just made a senior NCO type command decision. Anyone doesn’t like this spot can go to hell.” He took a gallon of whitewash from the truck and copiously splashed it in a large circle around the stake. “Make it easier to spot next time.”

  Then Clint broke off a piece of brush, and dipped the end in some of the wet whitewash, and painted a steak from the very top of one of the deuce wheels down toward the center.

  “What did you do that for?”

  “Improvising. That’s about all we can do, without proper tools, landmarks or boundaries. I figured out that every revolution of a deuce tire is about ten feet on the ground. We’ll slowly drive the deuce due west, while one of us counts the number of revolutions. So, when we hit five-hundred and twenty-eight, that’s where the center observation tower will be.” When they got that count, Clint splashed white wash around the stake that Lance planted at that spot.

  At the RADAR target site, the troops soon regretted the post-hole diggers had arrived. Even taking turns and swapping two pair of leather gloves, by lunch time they were shot. Post-hole diggers called for a different set off muscles than they used normally. The deeper the holes got, the harder the work became, and the less dirt they could haul up each time. Patton decided the troops need a long lunch period.

  Nearing town they heard a clanging noise. Turning on to main street they spotted a shiny fire truck slowly driving while a pretty girl clanged the bell. Two other pretty girls hung onto the fire truck and waved to the crowds. “I’ll be damned,” Kline said. “That garlic eating dago has beat us to all to them girls.”

  “Calm down Kline,” Patton said. “They’re not fuckin’ any one while on that fire truck.”

  “I suppose not. It just pisses me off. I don’t know why.”

  Elsas drove back over to River Road to let the girls get off at the Boar Pen. Then he parked the fire truck at Gilman’s. Patton’s crew were ready for him. they walked by him in single file and each lightly punched him on the arm. “Hey, what’s this, a revolt of the have nots!” Elsas giggled and laughed at them. “I guess you guys know who has set himself up for first in line…come Saturday. CUMM Saturday that is!” They responded with their practiced groan.

  Watching all this, both Dorris and Lorena wondered what was gong on. Dorris said to Clint. “That’s a pretty fire truck. But does it work like one?”

  “How about that Elsas. We gonna be able to put out fires with it?”

  “Should, if we have a water supply…or a bunch of fire extinguishers. Also works for spraying things like mosquitoes, but not for any thing thick like white wash.”

  Beside him, Lorena said, “Sergeant Greybull. I don’t know what to think. Can those guys punch an NCO like that, without getting in trouble?”

  He smiled gently and tried to catch her eyes. She wouldn’t look at him. “Not seriously. This is all in fun. Makes it easier to get along if we can kid each other…within reason. No real insults.” Sergeant Greybull yet. Wonder how I’m going to get back in her good graces? At least, Dorris is talking to me some.

  Patton took Clint aside, “Post hole diggers are better than shovels, but these guys are beat after half a days work, and progress is slow. Since we got cement, I cut hole depth back from three feet to thirty inches, but we only finished four.”

  “Rats. We got a lot of holes to dig. What about even cuttin’ back to two foot holes?”

  “I favor that. With cement, that should be deep enough.”

  “Okay. Ease up on them this afternoon, but keep going. If we don’t they’ll all be stiff tomorrow, probably will be anyway. I’ll see if we can get some kind of auger.”

  Byers was just finishing lunch. “Sir, if I can get an auger, can we run one off that tractor?”

  “Yeah, should be a take-off drive on it. After I check it out, I’ll let you know.”

  “We got one barrel of diesel. Ought to keep you busy for a little while.”

  “Don’t count on it. That’s a light tractor. Pushing that blade will put quite a load on it. Suggest you get a few more barrels of diesel.”

  “Yes Sir.” Clint made a note of it.

  Dorris said. “I saw you speak to Clint, but you never looked at him.”

  “I can’t. I can’t. I’m just so embarrassed to be near him.”

  “You couldn’t see that he was smiling at you, could you?”

  Hope rose in Lorena’s eyes. “He did? Oh, good. Maybe he’s not mad at me.”

  “I doubt it. Just be normal and nice around him. Everything will be okay.”

  Lorena was so happy she couldn’t be still. When she finally lit again, she said, “What about you and him, Mom? Are you going out with him again?”

  Dorris’ face clouded up. “I don’t know. We haven’t had a chance to talk. I hope we’ll be going out again. But he and I need to have a long talk.”

  Lorena looked pained again. “About me?”

  Dorris hugged her. “No, not about you. About me…and him.”

  “You didn’t pay attention to what that nasty Fritz Deutsh said about Clint did you?”

  “Oh no. Fritz doesn’t have any influence over me.”

  “So what is it you want to say to Clint about you and him?”

  “Only that we can be friends again,” she lied. I couldn’t possibly tell her any thing about sex between me and Clint. Or I should think…the lack of it. Darn. Have I turned into a sex pot?…Well, I’d like to.

  In Sheriff Radecker’s office, Fritz Deutsch said, “I bumped into Sergeant Greybull again last night in Glasgow. He manages to piss me off every time I see him.”

  “But nothing I can do about it, right?”

  “Naw. I saw him drive down the runway and then stop that airplane. Ain’t there something illegal about that?”

  “If there is, its not in the code book for West Layover, or even Valley County. Reckon you’d have to complain to the Federal Aviation Agency, if they’d even listen to you.”

  “Why wouldn’t they listen to a concerned citizen?”

  “Probably because you weren’t on that airplane, and secondly because it was an Air Force plane. The pilot might complain to somebody in the Air Force, but I doubt he’d call the FAA.”

  “Oh shit. So what’s going on with the investigation of that shot negra? Greybull mighta done that.”

  “It’s a county mounty case. Haven’t heard anymore from them. Don’t think they’re pushing too hard. I’m surprised the FBI or some Air Force agency hasn’t been around.”

  “I hear Greybull’s rifle is missing. Don’t that make him a suspect?”

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. There’s been a lot of talk around. Even at church.”

  “Yeah, I think Greybull was a suspect at first, but they didn’t haul him in. Was I to guess, guess, mind you, your boy Basil Tree is
a more likely suspect.”

  “Naw, he was out with the herd that night. Couldn’t have been him.”

  “Yeah? But you couldn’t see him out there on the range, could you?”

  “Naw, but if Basil done it, I’d know it,” Fritz lied.

  Turning away from Fritz, Radecker, “humphed.”

  “Well, that Greybull is a pain in the ass…believe he’s the key to that bomb site plan. If there’s a legal way to get him out of the way, things’d really slow down over there. Keep it in mind.”

  “Oh yeah, sure Fritz.” Wish he’d get the hell out of here.

  “Reckon I need to talk to a lawyer.” Fritz left for Glasgow.

  Jewel rested in the shade of the deuce. He watched Hooper and Alcocke struggling with post-hole diggers. Beside him Kline lay in the sand with his eyes shut. “Shoot, by Saturday night you guys’ll be too worn out to fuck any whores. That’s why I did it Monday night.”

  Kline sat up. “You did what Monday night?”

  “While you guys slopped up beer, I fucked Tawny.”

  “Bull shit, Jewel. You’re full of it.”

  “Oh yeah, if you ever get the chance, ask her. She won’t forget me.”

  “Hey you guys. You hear what dingaling here said? He fucked Tawny.”

  Alcocke leaned on the digger. “Oh sure, after that VD movie, and no rubber, he was fucking a whore. You’re full of crap, Jewel.”

  “Don’t need a rubber if you’re careful. You guys didn’t see me leave before the rest of you, huh?”

  “That’s right.” Sergeant Patton said. “When I left before you guys, Jewel was all ready gone.”

  “I can’t believe it any way.” Kline said. “You got any proof, Jewel? Like a dose of clap?”

  “No, no, no. Just forget about it. You’ll find out later.”

  “Aw, baloney,” Kline said, and pitched a clod of dirt at Jewel.

  Jewel brushed it aside and turned away from Kline. In a few minutes, Kline stretched out with his eyes shut and mouth open. Jewel picked up a handful of sand and dribbled some in Kline’s mouth. Kline leaped up and spat sand all over the place. He coughed and hawked to get rid of it. The other men stopped work and watched Kline. HO HO HO HUH HAHA! Jewel laughed like an idiot.

  “You cocksucker!” Kline snarled as he leaped on a helplessly giggling Jewel, and having him down, punched him in the face. He was about to strike a squirming Jewel again when Sergeant Patton tore him away. “All right, you two clowns. Knock it off! And since you two got so much energy, you trade places with Hooper and Alcocke NOW!”

  Grumbling, Kline took a digger from Alcocke. Unhurt and stifling his giggles, Jewel took the other digger from Hooper.

  Sergeant Patton said, “Listen up you guys. There’s too much to be done for you jokers to be wasting your energy on nonsense. I won’t put up with it again…and you can damn sure bet there are worse things you could be doing…besides an early shift change. You got that right? Did you hear me?” They all nodded that they had.

  Sitting in the shade of the truck, Hooper thought about Jewel’s boast. Had Jewel really had sex with Tawny? He pictured her in his mind. He removed her sun dress, then her bra. Was she wearing panties? He removed them and tried to picture her pussy. He’d never seen one. That picture faded and uncalled, Lieutenant Townsend’s face appeared. Was his crotch swelling? Oh no…He swiped a hand at his face to remove that vision.

  “Hey, what’s the matter with you, Hooper?” Alcocke said.

  “Nothing, nothing. I thought there was a fly on my face.”

  Back at the bunkhouse on Fritz’s ranch, Basil Tree sat on his bunk, smoked a cigarette, and watched Herman Deutsche. A chubby boy with a soft featureless face, and the incipient look of a mentally challenged child, he wandered from window to window shooting his cap gun at imaginary enemies. “You really want to be a cowboy, don’t you, Herman?”

  “Uhh…when Herman big man…Herman be cowboy.”

  “You want to be real cowboy, like me, don’t you?”

  “Yah…me real cowboy like Bassl.”

  “It won’t be too long. You’re pretty big now. How old are you?”

  Herman dropped his pistol. He screwed his face up. He looked at his fingers and counted with them. He held both hands up to Basil. “Herman so many…”

  “You don’t have enough fingers, boy. You must be twelve or thirteen.”

  Herman thought about it awhile longer. “Yah…Herman thirteen.”

  “When I was thirteen I was a cowboy already. You can be too…I teach you to be cowboy… just like a real cowboy taught me…to be a cowboy…when I was thirteen.”

  “Bassl make Herman cowboy?”

  “Sure. Come over here for a minute. I want to see if you strong enough to be cowboy.” Basil felt of his arm muscles. “Good. Good. Let’s see if your legs strong enough to be cowboy.” Basil manipulated Herman’s legs, brushing against the boy’s crotch. Believe he’s old enough. “Yeah, you’re got the muscles to be a cowboy.” In releasing the boys legs, Basil drew his hand upward across Herman’s groin.

  Herman was so happy he twitched. “When Herman be cowboy?”

  “Not so fast. There’s some secrets only cowboys know. Do you know what a secret is?”

  Herman looked puzzled.

  “A secret is something you never tell anyone…only another cowboy…When I teach you cowboy secrets… you tell anyone?”

  Herman struggled with the concept.

  “If I tell Herman a cowboy secret…will Herman tell Grandma?”

  “Gumma not cowboy.”

  “So…no tell cowboy secrets…to Grandma…right?”

  “Herman no tell Gumma.”

  “Herman tell secrets to Daddy?”

  “Tell secrets to Daddy…Daddy cowboy.”

  “No. Daddy no cowboy. Daddy rancher now. Daddy boss now. No more cowboy. Daddy no sleep in bunkhouse…like cowboy Basil. Daddy big man…not cowboy anymore…Herman tell daddy cowboy secrets?”

  “Dada no cowboy…no tell Dada cowboy secrets…”

  “Good. Then I’ll tell you cowboy secrets that no one else knows.”

  “Tell me cowboy secrets.”

  “Not right now. When it’s dark. When Granma sleeps in her chair. You come to bunk house. You gonna be cowboy, maybe you can sleep in bunkhouse soon.”

  When Herman slipped into the bunkhouse, Tree was asleep. He poked at the cowboy with a stubby finger until Basil woke up. “Herman sleep in bunkhouse…be real cowboy.”

  “What? Oh yeah. Come on then. Slide in here with me.”

  Three days of hot, dry, dusty weather seemed to enervate every one in West Layover. Relations between people changed little. While at Gilman’s, an air of malaise hindered any change in the status quo. To give the troops more time between digging bouts, Clint assigned Priebe to Patton’s crew. On daily inspection trips to view progress at the RADAR tower, Clint, Lance and Tony Elsas also took a turn at digging.

  Now with his own phone, Clint called Lieutenant Pearsall to brief him on latest events. “Digging, even with post-hollers is killing the troops. Know where or how we can get an auger to dig those holes? We’re going to wear out not only men, but the equipment we’re using.”

  “I can believe it’s tough, and I’ll look into it. Might be you can buy or rent one… from a farmer’s store around there. By the way, Lieutenant Byers has been assigned to the detachment by VOCO, Vocal Orders of Commanding Officer, with no specific duty. He’s lucky. Probably keeps him from a court-martial. I hear Air Div (Commander) about bursts a blood vessel when damage to a B-36 is mentioned.”

  “Okay, well if he’s happy driving that tractor, that’s fine with me. He assures me that an auger can be driven off the tractor. I assume his pay records will be transferred to the detachment. That ou
ght to brighten his day. He didn’t get any cash when the rest of us did. The only communication equipment we have now is a telephone, and one air/ground radio. When the RADAR tower is finished we’re going to start on the observation towers for target two. We need walkie-talkies…or something to connect tower observers with Q-1 here, where I’ll have the air-to-ground set.”

  “Neva hoppen, G.I. Korea has first priority. We can’t get any. We’re working on field phones connected by wire. Seems the best we can do.”

  “Oh, so that’s why all the rolls of wire came in on that C-74. I got wire, but no phones. You guys heard any congressional flack about this site.”

  “No. Why? Should I?”

  “This rancher, Fritz Deutsche gives us some trouble every time he can. I know he’s threatened to have Congressman Hichaire try to stop it.”

  “I kind of doubt it. Thwarting a war time project has got to be very unpopular.”

  “Yeah, that reminds me, crew of that C-74 make any complaints about action here?”

  “No. That something I should know about?”

  “Not from me. If the pilot had nothing to carp about, everyone’s happy.”

  At supper, Dorris and Clint spoke to each other, however their relationship simulated a business atmosphere. When he saw Dorris leave the restaurant, he waited five minutes and then sauntered back to the hotel. Just as he hoped, Dorris sat at the desk.

  He pulled a chair up near her and sat down. She didn’t say anything, just looked expectantly at him. “Golly, Dorris, we’ve hardly had time to speak the last few days. Watching you, I thought you seemed remote. Is it something I’ve done? Are you mad at me?”

  “No, you haven’t done anything, (maybe that is the problem,) and I’ve have no reason to be mad at you.”

  “I’m glad of that. And I think Lorena is coming around to being friends again.”

  “Good. She really thinks a lot of you.”

  “I think a lot of her…” He shut down the vision of Lorena in bra and panties. “And I think an awful lot of her mother.”