by Thomas Babak
The sound of crunching gravel came from the parking lot. Sandy looked up and saw Mr. Bullock’s gold Impala pulling in. He turned and looked over his shoulder at the wall clock. Five minutes to nine. Glancing down at the pad the only words on it were “Bubble Tech.” He hadn’t accomplished anything.
Sandy got up and walked around the counter going to the office front door and unlocked while flipping the Closed sign to Open. He opened it and waited for Mr. Bullock.
“Morning, Sandy,” he said.
“Good morning, Mr. Bullock”
Seemed like it was going to be a good day for Mr. Bullock. He was wearing his usual battered baseball cap and work clothes but his eyes were clear and he’d shaved. Sandy could smell the overly applied Aqua Velva from where he stood several feet away.
Mr. Bullock walked by Sandy and headed to his office. Sandy closed the door and headed back to his spot behind the counter to try to get back to work; both the Salvage Yard’s and the Bubble Tech.
As soon as he sat down, Mr. Bullock called him to his office.
Mr. Bullock was sitting at his desk, leaning back with his feet up and legs crossed. The rough, old work boots that he always wore deepened the desk’s permanent scar he’d made over the years on the corner they rested on.
“Have a seat, Sandy,” he said nodding his head towards the single beat-up metal office chair sitting in front of his desk and next to the wall.
Sandy walked over and sat down with an expectant look on his face. Mr. Bullock rarely invited him to his office and never had asked him to sit down before. Though they were the only two people that worked at the Yard, Mr. Bullock didn’t spend much time there and Sandy was usually out front or somewhere else in the large Salvage Yard.
Mr. Bullock put his feet back on the floor and turned towards Sandy, scooting his rolling chair up closer to the desk. He laid his brown, calloused old hands down on the desk surface and peered at Sandy intently.
“Have you thought about your Bubble stuff… how to keep it safe?” he asked seriously.
“I was just doing that, Mr. Bullock, when you came in. Sort of. I think the only way to keep it… safe, for now, is to keep it a secret. I’ll keep trying to figure out something” Sandy answered lamely. He’d mostly been thinking of Tasha, but the intention had been there when he started.
Mr. Bullock leaned back and was quiet for a few seconds. He picked up a piece of metal off his desk and held it with his fingers. Sandy had noticed it lying there when he’d sat down. It was a one inch wide, quarter inch thick and slightly curved ragged chunk of metal that had been polished smooth from sitting in Mr. Bullock’s pocket for who knows how many years. Sandy had seen it in Mr. Bullock hands a few times over the past couple of years that he worked here. Mr. Bullock would take it out of his pocket and look at it now and then. Sandy never asked what it was, figuring it was some sort of lucky charm.
“Do you know what this is Sandy?” he asked unexpectedly.
“No, sir,” Sandy answered, not even wanting to put forward his theory that it was some sort of lucky charm.
Mr. Bullock held the piece of polished, ragged metal up between his thumb and fore finger and examined it like it was a rare gem.
“It’s the shrapnel that killed me in Iraq,” he said simply.
Sandy sat there stunned and surprised his eyes focusing intently on the piece of ragged metal held up between Mr. Bullock’s thumb and forefinger. Mr. Bullock rarely talked about himself. From a few comments over the years Sandy knew that Mr. Bullock had at one time a family but he didn’t know what happened to them. He kind of knew that Mr. Bullock had been in the military from some of those offhand comments.
“Got it in the chest. The medics said that my heart stopped and I wasn’t breathing. They got me going again. The M.A.S.H. doctor gave it to me as a souvenir. Do you know what it is?” he asked and looked over at Sandy.
Sandy cleared his throat and said, “No sir.”
“It’s a fragment from a 105mm HE arty round. That’s a High Explosive artillery round.” Mr. Bullock looked back over at the fragment that he held in his fingers and then placed it back down on the desk.
“The round and the gun it was fired from were made in the USA. We sold them to the Iraqi’s, or they got them from whoever we sold them to, before we went to war with them.” He looked down at the fragment down on the desk between them and then looked at Sandy.
“I was killed, almost killed, by our own stuff. Almost killed by something made in our own country,” he said simply.
More fervently, he said, “Everything you do. Everything that anyone does always has consequences. Both good and bad. You’ve got to figure out how you can control what you’ve made. Figure out how it can only be used to help rather than harm folks. Think of consequences.”
Mr. Bullock reached out and with his finger slid the fragment over towards Sandy. It made a scraping sound as he slid it across the desk.
“I want you to keep this as a reminder of that.”
“But…” Sandy started to say but stopped as Mr. Bullock looked at him, his expression showing that he would accept no argument.
“Thanks, Mr. Bullock,” Sandy said as he reached out and picked up the fragment and held it in his palm. “I’ll do my best.”
Mr. Bullock didn’t say anything. He rolled the chair back from his desk and gave out a grunt as he rocked forward and stood up. He walked out the door. Sandy got up and put the fragment in his pocket, following him out the door.
They both walked to the counter. Mr. Bullock looked down and saw the pad with the words “Bubble Tech” written on it. He tore the page off, wadded it up and tossed it into the garbage can nearby. He then sat down in Sandy’s chair.
“Take the rest of the day off. And I don’t mean go out to the barn. Go home. Play. Watch TV or something. First thing Monday, I want you ready to work” he said looking up from Sandy’s chair.
Sandy glanced back at the wall clock. It was barely 9:15am. He could see Tasha sooner his only thought.
“Thanks Mr. Bullock.” Sandy said as he reached down and patted the pocket the fragment was sitting in.
Mr. Bullock rewarded Sandy with a smile and said “Git! And don’t come back until Monday!”
Sandy grabbed his truck keys and backpack from under the counter and left as quickly as he could without actually breaking out into a run. He’d left Tasha standing on the front porch. She’d asked him to get something for lunch which meant that she’d still be there waiting. Didn’t it?
He’d find the time to talk to her. He’d make the time.
Ten
The drive home was a blur. Sandy was excited and nervous to see Tasha. Then, he started to get fearful that she might not be there. Thoughts began to flitter through his mind. She had a boyfriend. They’d spent the last few years apart and she didn’t really like Sandy anymore. She’d go back to her own home and he’d find his house empty. They really didn’t talk last night. She did but he hadn’t. He’d listened. He’d gotten very good at that over the last few years. Listening to others but not involving himself in the conversation. Maybe he didn’t know how anymore. Maybe they had nothing to talk about.
Pulling into the driveway he stared intently at his front door as if it would offer a clue on whether she was there or not. It didn’t, so he got out of the truck.
As he rushed up the walkway to the porch, the front door opened and there she was. She’d heard his truck drive up and had come to the door to meet him. She was still wearing what she wore last night and this morning. Her hair was mussed up, but she’d cleaned off all of her makeup completely.
“Hi. You’re home early,” she said.
Sandy had stopped when she had opened the door. He walked up the porch stairs slowly now, trying to catch his breath as surreptitiously as possible.
She is so beautiful, he thought to himself. It came effortlessly to her.
“Hi. Uhh… yes. Got the rest of the day off,” he said as he walked up the last few feet to
where she was standing at the door.
“I was just heading home to get cleaned up,” she said.
Sandy stood there for a few seconds. He wanted so badly to spend time with her. He wanted to talk and laugh like they used to. He wanted so badly to say something as the seconds began to draw out and the sudden thought of Hero flashed through his mind. Heroes go for it.
“Do you… do you, want to do something today. Do something with me?” he finally got out.
“Sure,” she answered quickly, a smile breaking out on her face.
“Can we go to the movies?” he asked, a hint, a note of anxiety in his voice.
Back in elementary school and junior high, Sandy and Tasha had often gone to the movies. It was one of the things they used to do together often. Besides the large twelve theater cinema complex over by a strip mall twenty-five miles away, there was a smaller two screen theater in downtown Buffalo. It showed movies months after they had come out at a steep discount. That was the one they always went to. It had been one of their major weekend activities while growing up.
“We can walk around downtown, have some lunch and then watch a movie,” Sandy said as convincingly as possible and with a smile fixed on his face.
Her smile widened as she thought back, too, to those times growing up when they had gone to the movies together.
“Sure. Sounds like fun,” she said with a laugh.
“Let me go get cleaned up, and I’ll be back soon,” she said as she walked past him. Sandy watched her as she crossed the street and headed up her walkway then stairs and opened her front door. She turned, saw him standing there still and smiled and waved briefly before heading inside her house. Sandy waved back and then went inside himself.
Over an hour later Sandy was sitting on his couch and still waiting. He’d changed into some fresh jeans and clean shirt and was flipping through channels on the TV not really noticing anything on the screen.
There was a knock on the door and Sandy jumped up shutting the TV off with the remote and dropping it on the coffee table as he rushed to the door and opened it. The knock had been a surprise. He’d been checking every few minutes by peeking out of the shade to see if she was coming.
Tasha was standing there. She was wearing black tights or yoga pants, red Converse All-stars and some sort of large white shirt that came down to mid-thigh under a black café leather jacket. She’d braided the front of her hair down to one side and had put on makeup. Sandy was struck again how beautiful she was, staring into her grey eyes and wide smiling face.
“I guess I look okay,” she said with a laugh from looking at his reaction.
“Umm… yes” Sandy said, a self-conscious smile breaking out on his face finally.
They didn’t talk much in the ten to fifteen minute drive to downtown Buffalo. Sandy had the radio on and they both listened to the music for the most part. Sandy apologized for the movie they were going to see. It was an animated family show. The other movie was some horror flick and they both hated those kinds of movies. Tasha didn’t mind. She was looking forward to it. At least that is what she said. As they drove, Sandy would glance over once in a while when he thought Tasha wasn’t looking. He was caught several times but that didn’t stop him from doing it again.
Once they got downtown and parked, they walked around for a while, ducking into several antique stores that seemed to dominate the area they were in. Soon Sandy began to relax and once in a while they laughed at or with each other at some of the things they were looking at.
They had lunch at a café style restaurant. Tasha ordered a patty melt and fries and Sandy a cheeseburger. They’d just been served, the waitress walking away, when Nick came into the restaurant. Looking over Tasha’s shoulder, Sandy froze. Tasha looked up and seeing Sandy’s face, a look of concern broke out on her own. She was just about to ask what was wrong.
“There you are, babe!” Nick said as if he had been looking for her, when he was actually looking at Sandy. Tasha turned quickly in her seat. He came over, a nasty grin on his face. Nick grabbed a chair away from another table and set it next to Tasha and sat down.
“Nick…” was all Tasha got out before Nick continued, cutting her off.
“Stevie said he saw you down here with Candy Cane.”
“Nick, stop,” she said but without force, deflating in his presence.
He continued over her objection, “I thought I’d come find you since you said we’d do something this weekend.”
“Sandy and I are going to go to the movies after lunch” she said hesitantly.
“Great! I’d love to see a movie. Let’s go!” He said, the nasty smile never leaving his face nor his eyes leaving Sandy’s.
“We were going to…” Tasha started to explain. Sandy figured she was going to tell Nick something along the lines that they were just going to go to the movies together like they used to. When they were friends. He knew that Nick wouldn’t let it rest like that. He’d come along to humiliate Sandy. Sandy didn’t want any part of that and he wasn’t going to hang around for it.
“That’s okay!” Sandy blurted out.
“We can go another time,” he said as he pushed his chair back and stood up looking back and forth between Tasha and Nick.
“I’ll see you later,” he said to Tasha with a sad, plastered on smile on his face as he dug out a twenty dollar bill and placed it on the table.
“But… ” Tasha started to say as Nick stood up, blocking her view of Sandy leaving.
Nick sat down in Sandy’s chair and picked up one of his fries and jammed it into his mouth. His other hand was already reaching for the untouched cheeseburger.
As Sandy reached the door Nick called out “Thanks for lunch, Candy Cane!”
Sandy looked over as he headed out the door. Tasha had turned in her chair and was staring at him, a confused and sad look on her face. He thought about going back. It wasn’t the right time though. He didn’t want to sink down to Nick’s level in front of Tasha.
I’ll have another chance, Sandy thought to himself as he walked down the street heading to his truck. Tasha will realize one of these days what a jerk he is. One of these days.
Eleven
Sandy pulled into the Yard parking lot around 1:00pm. He’d left Tasha and Nick downtown and rather than head home he was going to hang around the Yard for a while. The thought of going home left him feeling empty. He’d try to forget what had just happened. It hurt too much to think about the way Tasha looked at him as he left the café.
To get his mind off of what had happened he’d try to figure out how he could control the Bubble Tech from being used for bad things. He had a hard time saying “evil” to himself though Mr. Bullock had used that word. The more he thought about it though, the more he realized… accepted that Mr. Bullock was right. The tech could be used for evil if controls couldn’t be put into place.
Mr. Bullock’s Impala was gone and the Yard office was closed. Normally they stayed open until six on Saturday, but Sandy guessed that Mr. Bullock decided to give himself a day off as well. He did that pretty often, since very few customers ever stopped by. Almost everything was done over the phone or online.
Mr. Bullock lived in a mobile home down a dirt driveway whose entrance was just down the country road a hundred feet or so. The mobile home was tucked into the woods and you couldn’t see it from the road as the driveway curved into the trees. Sandy had gone down there a few times to check on Mr. Bullock but had never actually been inside his house. He could never recall anyone ever going down the driveway except the propane truck that came periodically fill Mr. Bullock’s tank.
Sandy opened the Yard’s side gate and drove his truck down and around to the lot between the bay and the barn and parked it next to the tow truck. He walked back up and closed but didn’t lock the gate. He didn’t want anyone to think the Yard was open and interrupt him.
He walked over and opened the barn side door and went inside, turning on the lights and glancing around to see if every
thing was okay. Walking over to the TV he turned it on kept the remote as he walked over and up the short platform stairs and opened the van’s side door and turned around and sat on the floor of the van, his feet on the steps. Sandy flipped through several channels and settled on the news. The tiny old tube TV that he had taken from his grandmother’s room sat far away enough that he barely could see the screen. He cranked up the volume and let his thoughts wander to how he could protect his new technology.
The news droned on as his mind wandered, occasionally drifting back to what was being reported. He replayed the great morning he had with Tasha and the tried not to think about Nick showing up. Once in a while he tried to think about how he could control the Bubble Tech.
The news droned on. The weather was warming up. Some sports team “battled” another sports team. What was that? His mind focused in on what was being reported.
“… the two boys went missing from their parents camp sometime last night. Searchers are confident they can find… ”
Sandy got up and went inside the van and began powering everything up quickly. He headed back to the van’s side door to listen to the rest of the news report. There wasn’t any more detail, other than the state park they were visiting. Soon, the news show switched to another story.
Sandy shut the TV off and looked for a place to put the remote. Without thinking, he put it in the camper’s small sink and went back to the driver’s seat and sat down. He brought the metal control tray forward and but didn’t lock it into place. He could see from the monitor that all systems were up and there were no errors or alerts.
Sandy slid out the keyboard shelf built into the underside of the metal tray. He opened his browser to do a quick Internet search. He could just barely get a signal from the wireless router he’d set up in the Yard offices in the main building.
The boys, aged seven and nine, had been visiting George H. Crosby Manitou State Park on the North Shore of Lake Superior. They’d gone missing just after dinner. The parents alerted local authorities within an hour of their disappearance. That was last night around seven. They had now been missing for almost eighteen hours. It had been cold last night, too. Who goes camping in March? Sandy thought.