Arlington Cemetery was the same impressive, sobering sight as always, with its row upon row of small white markers, geometrically spaced and labeling each plot as the final resting spot of an American soldier. John F. Kennedy was there. Before leaving, he’d visit the monument of the assassinated president, and go to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier to witness, once again, the changing of the guard. Was the guard still changed, he wondered, or had that been eliminated? Listening to that lone bugle, hearing the smart slap of rifles in salute, it made him proud to be a citizen of this country.
The taxi crossed Arlington Memorial Bridge, moved slowly around Lincoln Memorial, and continued east on Constitution Avenue. The driver was sensitive to the shivering, pale man who had hailed him from the hotel. From his mirror, he had watched Cecil. “You’ve been here before, buddy?” His passenger was lost in thought and reflection at the scenes. Clearing his throat, the driver tried again. “You act like you’re seeing D.C. for the second time.”
“Huh? Oh, yes. I lived here for a short while—years ago. It has really changed.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. Some things stay the same though. You ought to see the cherry blossoms in the spring.”
“I hear they’re some sight to behold,” Cecil remarked. “It was summer when I was here before. I used to go to band concerts that were held on a barge sitting on the Potomac, right beside Arlington Memorial Bridge. They were something, too.” How vividly he recalled the sway of the barge and the music.
The taxi pulled to a stop before the building and the driver said, “Here’s your address. Luck to you, mister, and enjoy your reunion.”
Cecil tipped the driver and hesitated before ascending the steps. The government office building was not one of the new ones. Its age was established by the ancient weathering of the stone, and the strange V’s that substituted in the place of U’s on the overhead lettering. It was a typical structure in the capitol. Checking the buttons on his coat, he started up the stairs. Through the doors and down a hall on his left, referring to the letter once more to make certain he had the right suite, he entered the offices.
The receptionist was courteous as she greeted him. “Oh yes, Mr. Yeager. We hope you had a pleasant trip.”
“I did, thank you. However, I hoped to do a little sightseeing while here, so I declined your accommodations and selected a hotel in Arlington,” he said with politeness.
Her bright cheery smile flashed back at him. “Oh, that’s perfectly all right. The Senator only wanted to insure that you wouldn’t be inconvenienced, that’s why he thought all of you people would appreciate having arrangements made for you. When the meetings are finished, I will provide you with a chit to fill out, Mr. Yeager. You can be reimbursed for your food and lodging at that time.”
“There are others here, also?” he asked.
“Yes indeed. Although it is early yet, one lady arrived a half hour ago.” She nodded toward a mahogany door. “Perhaps you’d like to meet her,” she replied as she pushed back her chair.
“Don’t get up.” He smiled. “I’ll find my way.”
The large rectangular chamber was designed for informal conferences. One end was filled with plush easy chairs and couches. Toward the opposite end extended a heavy wooden table, its sides flanked by chairs. The motif was harmoniously thought out, with just the proper degree of comfort, but not too much. Semi-transparent drapes admitted only a vestige of exterior light; lamps dimly illuminated the peach colored walls. It was a comfortable room, Cecil thought as he noticed the woman at the far end.
Her lonely figure sat, sunk deep into the cushions. The lamp nearest her had been turned off. On the floor by her side were a pair of crutches.
Cecil peered toward the woman, aware that something about her was vaguely familiar. He moved closer to her “Althea?” he asked tentatively. “Is that you?”
She raised her head at his voice. “Yes. Who...?”
“It’s me. Cecil. Cecil Yeager.”
“Cecil! For heaven’s sake. I can’t believe it’s really you. What a surprise!” she said with genuine warmth.
He walked to her and dropped down by her chair. “Althea, I had no idea you’d be here.”
She touched him on the shoulder. “My, you’re looking fit these days, though paler than I remember you.”
“It’s this cold weather,” he answered. “I can’t take it. My bones rebel when the temperature slips to freezing.”
She fingered the fabric of his coat. “Well, you need heavier clothes. This raincoat won’t do at all for this climate, Cecil.”
He grinned sheepishly, pleased that her concern had shown through. “What would you think if I told you that I hated to spend the money on an overcoat that I’d wear for less than a week?”
“I’d think you were a very thrifty, but somewhat cold, man,” she answered lightly.
He laid his hand over hers. “Althea, why didn’t you reply to my email or texts?” he asked with sudden seriousness.
She didn’t respond to his question.
“An envelope with a check to cover your parents’ expenses, and a thank you—well, I’d hoped for more than that. Some news about your welfare, your plans, you could have sent me something.”
“I, I....I didn’t think you’d care, Cecil. You did an awful lot for me, and I didn’t want to become burdensome to you,” she said, dropping her eyes.
He appraised her neatly coiffed hair, and the thin sensitive face. “Of course I cared. I had already decided that once these meetings ended, I’d go to visit you. Luckily, I don’t have to wait that long,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.
“You’ve been very nice...but...”
Impulsively he continued, “Listen, now that you’re here, we can make this a pleasure trip. I lived here for a few months once, and I’ve always wanted to return. Althea, this is an exciting city! There are such interesting sights—and we’ll see them all!”
She picked the crutches off the floor. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to tour Washington with you, Cecil,” she said softly. “These are very cumbersome things.”
He glanced first at the wooden staves, then down at her bandaged feet.
“They haven’t healed, you see. Doctors keep saying that anytime now they’ll be back in fine shape. And for awhile, the sores do start to heal. But soon, they split open and become raw wounds,” she explained. “These crutches are to keep me off my feet as much as possible.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have been asked to testify,” he said gruffly. “You’re obviously in no condition to be moving around a strange city by yourself.”
She laughed quietly. “Oh, you’re too concerned,” she said with fondness. “We grown girls often travel in foreign cities. But the sticks and the feet are a handicap, I’ll admit to that.”
“At least I get to see you again.” His face brightened.
She let her hand drop. “Yes. This trip was probably just the medicine I needed, Cecil. I had been so despondent, so distressed, that I didn’t want to leave the sanctity of the hospital. Then, resting at the spa was such an easy escape, that I didn’t want to leave it either. This request to appear before the investigating committee sort of coaxed me out of my lethargy.”
Cecil dragged a nearby chair over and sat in it, close to her. “How do you feel generally, Althea?”
“Tired. Tired all the time. But I have an excellent appetite lately, so I should put on a few pounds and begin to feel better.”
His thick bushy eyebrows suddenly lifted at a thought that entered his mind. “All right now, I’ve got it all worked out, down to the last detail. Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll rent us a car. When we’re finished here each day, we’ll take off on a driving tour of D.C. It’s not a bad way to see the city, in fact, it’s a lot easier than walking, I promise you.”
“Cecil, you are silly. Me, a virtual invalid...”
“We’ll see Alexandria, Althea. It’s a beautiful old colonial town, and Mt. Vernon, where Washington stayed. Hey!” H
e snapped his fingers. “I’ll rent a wheelchair. Then every place that we want to inspect more closely, I’ll just zip out the magic wheels and away we’ll go,” he said with a boyish enthusiasm.
“Are you listening to me, Cecil?” she asked.
“And the Smithsonian. You haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen the Spirit of St. Louis and those dinosaur bones, and the gem collections. It’s a wonderful city, Althea.”
“Cecil, stop it!” she commanded in a soft, but firm voice. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve tried to say, have you?”
“No, I haven’t Althea. And furthermore, I’m not going to hear any excuses from you about why you can’t do this or do that. After White Water you’re entitled to a vacation, lady, and this is as good a place for it as any. Not warm like home, maybe, but otherwise, it’s loaded!”
A pleasant, perplexed smile illuminated her face as she listened to him. “What about the expense, then? I didn’t bring much money with me,” she protested. “My share of the....”
He held up his hand, as though forbidding her to think in this vein. “Let’s say this is on Calmar Chemical Company.”
“Oh, are you going back to them?”
“Well, actually, they are opening a new site in San Diego, and they’ve offered me a slightly better job.” His mind flashed to the day when he had relieved them of the money in the safe. Evidently, the company had chalked that loss up to one of the numerous hazards of the day.
“Will you move there, Cecil?” she asked.
“I’m living there now, Althea. You know, you’d like it in San Diego, too. It has a nicer climate than Los Angeles.”
For a brief moment she was remorseful. “I’ll never again live in Los Angeles, I know that as a certainty,” she said.
The receptionist interrupted to usher a lady with several pieces of hand luggage into the room. Cecil and Althea paused to observe the stranger, then quietly resumed their discussion in lower tones.
Depositing the cases near the doorway, Paula Waring walked over and peeked through the drapes at the grounds outside. There was nothing of interest there, but the action gave her something to do until she could shed the discomfort of being in the presence of people she didn’t know, and who obviously were not anxious to introduce themselves.
She was tired and irritable from loss of sleep. She had not intended to take a late-night flight, but the bridge was jammed, and getting over San Francisco Bay had been inordinately time consuming. Consequently, she’d missed her scheduled flight and had to be re-scheduled on the only available space in the early hours of the morning. With luck, today’s meeting would be brief and she could hurry on to the hotel.
A recent edition of a popular ladies’ magazine was on the table, thoughtfully placed there on an impulse, in this very masculine, business-like room. She carried it to a chair, and began flipping its pages. The entrance of a fourth person caught her attention and she looked up.
“Hello, Paula. I was wondering whether or not you’d decide to attend.”
He was standing just inside the door, with both hands sunk deep into the pockets of his overcoat.
“Frank,” she said tersely, “hello.’’
He walked slowly forward, moving a chair near to her, where he took a seat. “You’re not very glad to see me, I can tell by your expression.”
She lifted one arched eyebrow and waited until he had settled down in the cushions. “I expected you.”
“How are the kids?”
“The children are fine.”
“Are they in school? Do they like it?”
“Yes and yes. Frank, I....”
“I hope to visit them before long, Paula, if that’s satisfactory to you,” he said.
“Of course it is. Visiting them is your prerogative as their father. Besides, they ask about you.”
Twenty-eight hundred miles away from the scene and they were still antagonists, subtly throwing verbal blocks at each other.
Frank casually glanced at her midsection. “You’ve gotten rid of it—the baby?”
She ignored his question and stared coolly back at him.
“Well, have you or not?” He raised his voice, causing the low murmurs at the far end of the room to suddenly cease.
“Hell yes, of course I have,” she hissed. “You surely don’t think I would fail to go through with it because of your objections. Ha! You over-estimate your influence, Frank.”
Visibly sagging, he laced trembling fingers and leaned closer. “Can’t we at least be friends? After all we meant to each other, can’t we remain on friendly terms and quit this snipping at each other, Paula?”
She hesitated before answering and then said, “Sure, why not? I don’t have any bitterness toward you.”
“I’ve missed you,” he said. “We were together for so long that, well, I guess you became a habit to me.”
She sadly shook her head from side to side. “A habit. What do you know about that. You have an absolute knack for saying the wrong things, Frank.”
“Now what the hell have I said to set you off?” he asked.
“A habit,” she repeated. “But naturally. That’s the same as being taken for granted.”
Searching for safer territory he finally inquired about her parents.
“They’re doing fine. And how’s Billy Joe and Connie?”
“Great. Just great. Paula, I’ve got a realtor working on selling the house. He thinks he has a customer about ready to sign.”
“That’s good,” she answered with interest. “Is he willing to pay our price?”
“There’s a problem with that. See, we didn’t have much equity in the house, and well, property values in San Mirado have really taken a dive.”
“Because of the White Water mess?” asked Paula.
“Sure. What else? Anyway, the buyer is offering eight thousand under our asking price,” he said with a grimace.
“Eight thousand! Good Lord, we can’t take that! After paying the realtor’s fees we wouldn’t come out of it with a penny. Not only that, we’d actually owe some!”
“I’m afraid we won’t have much choice,” answered Frank. “Suddenly nobody wants to live around there, Paula. This buyer is a speculator, according to the realtor.”
“Frank, surely someone would be willing to assume our loan. Why, to take over our mortgage and move into a nice place without any outlay of cash—that would be a tremendous bargain.”
“Yeah? Well, it wouldn’t unless we found somebody who wanted to live in that area pretty badly. So far, that region is far from being a mecca to weary house hunters.”
“We won’t sell for his price, I’ll tell you that right now.” Her words had poured out flat and hard.
“Then I assure you that I’m not about to keep making payments on that house, Paula. Frankly, I don’t give a damn if the bank repossesses it or not.” His voice was quiet as he spoke.
She became subdued when she realized he really just didn’t care about the house. “I don’t want to let it go for nothing. We did put a lot of improvements into it, and we ought to try to get something out of it, Frank.”
“Look, Paula,” he said with decisiveness, “I’ve done everything possible. The trouble is that nobody wants to live there. Hell, we’re not by ourselves, you know. Nearly everybody has their place up for sale, but there simply are not interested buyers. And it’s much worse in L.A.”
“The furniture—what did you do with it?” she asked.
Frank removed his all-weather coat, and loosened his tie. “I hauled what was left to Billy Joe’s. Before I got back to San Mirado, someone had broken into the house and thoroughly ransacked it. They stole practically everything that was worth stealing.”
“Oh Frank. No! What kind of bastards would do that, anyway?”
“Greedy ones, Paula. Practically every house that had been abandoned by the owners was gutted. I ran into Cooter Avondale, from down the block, remember? He said that thieves had taken every stick of his furniture, ri
ght down to and including the carpet. Can you beat that?” he said, shaking his head.
“Did you hear anything about Flo while you were there?”
“Uh uh. But then I wasn’t there to pay calls on the neighbors.”
“I often wondered what they did. Flo and I were having coffee that morning when it happened,” she said wistfully. “She was a nice gal. I tried getting in touch with her but she hasn't responded to my texts or emails.”
Peering around the door, the receptionist smiled pleasantly to the four and remarked, “I’m terribly sorry that the Senator has been detained. However, he sent a message saying that he’d be here within the next few minutes. I’ll be at my desk if there’s anything I can do for you.” Another show of pearl-white teeth, and she disappeared.
“Frank, when will it be normal, do you suppose?”
“What? San Mirado?”
“The whole region—San Mirado, the coast, everything.”
“I don’t have any idea, Paula. There used to be some large dairies in the county, but those animals have all died or been put to death. Their milk was contaminated, anyway. But, it was a strange scary feeling that I got from just traveling through there the other day. Everything was so different. It was almost spooky.”
A tall, stunning woman walked silently across the padded floor and took a seat in the one remaining spot. She sat equidistant from the others and the center of the room.
The buzz of voices halted momentarily, then resumed as the talkers ignored the newcomer.
Sara didn’t object to being excluded from conversation. There were monumental decisions that had been made in the darkness of the night, and once made, she could now relax to some degree and await the outcome. She recalled the discussion with her physician.
Harry had been the family physician for years. He had cared for her sister’s children, watching over them from fetuses into the rowdy youngsters they were today. He had treated every illness of their family that was within his realm of practice. And when the time came, he personally chose the specialists that were to be called in. Thus, she had the greatest confidence in his ability, and had willingly consulted him immediately after the service for Ben.
The Nuclear Catastrophe (a fiction novel of survival) Page 25