Operation Wolfe Cub: A Chilling Historical Thriller (THE TIME TO TELL Book 1) (49 page)

Eddie:“You’re not going to stay if there’s no work are you? Desert heat’s gettin’ to you, I can tell. You should come back.”

Cambrin: “Me and your mom are going to stick it out. They’re changing stuff so darn fast, there’s bound to be something for me to do. No, don’t you worry about me.”

Eddie:“Say, Dad, I was calling because—”

Cambrin: “I know so. First it’s the Gunner School…then it’s the Army Air Force Training Command. Wars never end, you know.”

Eddie:“Oh, Dad, you make it sound like you’re in war central for crying out loud.”

Cambrin: “No…they should call this place the United States War Center. Something like ’at.”

Eddie:“The U.S. Warfare Center?”

Cambrin: “No—oh God no. The war’s are supposed to be over, remember? No, no, no. Now they’re talking about naming the place in honor of some bozo. One of the names mentioned was
some guy named Nellis.”

Eddie:“Who’s that? He some war general or something?”

Cambrin: “No. Just a lieutenant killed somewhere last year in combat, I hear. Nobody big.”

Eddie:“Hey, Dad, I hate to bother you, but—”

Cambrin: “I know, I know. You never want to hear my problems. What’s on your mind?”

Eddie:“Don’t take this silly, okay? I just heard that that the United States confiscated German jets,
um
, rockets and
uh
—you know
um
—sort of like
uh
, flying saucers.
Is it true?
”

Cambrin: “
Ho
there. Wait a minute. What did you say?”

Eddie:“You heard me.”

Cambrin: “Flyyying saauucers? What in the…? Is your wife… wait a minute. Chantain gettin’ to you with her science-fiction trash again?”

Eddie:“No! I mean no. You heard me. I figured you working around the army base over there in Nevada, you might’ve heard something. You didn’t hear anything, did you?”

Cambrin: “
Ha
! Can’t say that I have. You did say—
flying saucers?
We’re not talking about coffee cups on small, flat plates are we?”

Eddie:“No, it was on the radio…real flying disc gyros. One guy even said he saw our military bringing them in from Germany for more studies—then maybe go to the moon with them.”

Cambrin: “Christ sakes. Is this my son talking? Who heard—I mean who saw this?”

Eddie:“I don’t know…they couldn’t say the names. Wait, they talked about some guy named Roy Fedden. Some space pro in the field of flying saucers. He said if any country could do it, it would be the Germans.”

Cambrin: “Good God, I
am
talking to my son. A flying saucer pro? Chantain’s been leaving her fiction books around. I just know it.”

Eddie:“What about Roy Fedden?”

Cambrin: “Roy Fedden.
Hmmm
, yeah I’ve heard-a-him, I guess. He’s a top-notch guy. He designed aircraft engines and things. Roy never said your gyros existed, did he?”

Eddie:“Well, no. Maybe not but—”

Cambrin: “Listen, if there was something out there, believe me, I would’ve heard it by now. You’re just getting caught up in the brand-new news. Shit’s all over ever since after the war.”

Eddie:“You think so? I never heard it.”

Cambrin: “That’s all it is, just space crap. I’m tellin’ you flat out.”

Eddie:“I know what you’re saying. My neighbor’s into it.
Hmmm
, but what if—”

Cambrin: “This flying saucer stuff is starting to get bad. It’s been buzzing around here even. They’re trading junk news after the war. Everyone’s bored.”

Eddie:“But—”

Cambrin: “There’s no ‘buts’ about it. You’re the butt for believing. Now how’s that kid-a-your’s doing? Talk about something normal for Pete’s sake.”

Eddie:“
Ah
, okay…he’s fine. We just got word from the constable. We get to keep him.”

Cambrin: “Keep him?
Ha haaa
, that’s wonderful!”

Eddie:“Yeah, I thought that too. Just need to let the kid thing sink in with Chantain, that’s all.”

Cambrin: “Hey, give me a sec will you, Eddie?”

Eddie:“Sure, go on.”

Cambrin: “Hey, Gayla, honey!
Whoooaaaa
, our son gets to keep the kid!”

Eddie:“Okay, Dad. I don’t want to go overboard.”

Cambrin: “Wait a minute…what about that gold-looking thing that was on his ankle. Did you ever find out what it was made of? I remember you being real interested in it.”

Eddie:“No, never did. It’s pretty hard. I know that.”

Cambrin: “Well tell you what. We have lab rats here thinking they’re whiz kids. Send me a sample of it. Maybe I can find out what it’s made of…see if it’s worth anything.”

Eddie:“You’d do that?”

Cambrin: “Sure, I would. That’s what I’m for.”

Eddie: “Hey, great. I know gold must be in it. I’ve gotta piece of the chain I can send you. It’s all the same-looking stuff.”

Cambrin: “That’ll do. When does Grandma and Grandpa get to have Doll for a week? Summertime would be best, you know.”

Eddie:“Just as soon as he’s old enough to ship out on a train and enjoy you two…how’s that?”

Cambrin: “I won’t hold my breath then. Before you go hangin’ up, don’t start believing too much about your saucer stuff.”

Eddie:“Okay.”

Cambrin: “I did hear about your rocket story, though.”

Eddie:“You did?”

Cambrin: “Yeah, that much I can give ya. They’re keeping it pretty hush-hush around here.”

Eddie:“What did you hear? Can you tell me?”

Cambrin: “Suppose it can’t hurt. I think I heard them say they were V-1s and V-2s. From the sounds of it, sounds like we don’t have anything like ’em here in the country.”

Eddie:“That’s right. Yeah, that’s what they said. You think we could eventually go to the moon on them?”

Cambrin: “Haven’t seen ’em yet. Of course anything’s possible. Moon’s not that far away, come to think. Heard about the gyro stuff in the war, so I’ll give you that too.”

Eddie:“I remember you telling me, what did you say they were?”

Cambrin: “Don’t go repeating. We called them ‘Fuckin’ Foo Fighters.’ Just a bunch of German propaganda was all it was.”

Eddie:“You don’t have to cuss about it, Dad. I was just—”

Cambrin: “No, that’s the name they gave them. They had to clean it up a little when the name got to the States…shit was designed to scare us. You be better off ignoring what I said.”

Eddie:“Okay, rockets was all it is. Say, I left Doll outside, so it’s been good talking to you.”

Cambrin: “Okay, son. Call again. Stay in touch and send me a sample-a-that metal. I’ve been thinking of ways to keep my job.”

Eddie:“Okay, ‘bye for now.”

Cambrin: “’Bye.”

Eddie uneasily looked at the receiver before hanging it up. Nonchalantly, he shrugged his shoulders while mumbling, “The chain…let me see now. Where’d I put it?” He rummaged around in the kitchen drawer before he found the link he had severed from Doll’s ankle that one evening. He then wrapped up his little piece of curiosity and put it into an envelope.

A funny thing happened as he passed by the living room windows in search of a stamp, however. As he hobbled by the front door again, he got his second glimpse of Doll playing with the blackbirds outside.
Again
, he shrugged off Doll’s close encounters of the feathered kind. Other matters took priority, so he quickly carried out his business of sealing up his envelope and stamping it for three cents.

Shortly thereafter, he hobbled out onto the porch with every intention of mailing the letter, but as he hobbled to the edge of the porch, he came to a sudden halt. Doll’s unique display of feathered friends, perching on his head and shoulders, struck Eddie as being totally odd. Finding no immediate answer for it, he glanced around the porch and saw Major doing nothing about it either. He was pushing himself up against the wall, looking timid.

Eddie squared up his eyes again and sure enough, Doll had them at the tips of his hands, both shoulders, and arms. He even had two, fluttering for better positions, on the top of his head.

Eddie stumbled off the porch, waving his cane. “
Shoo
…
shoo
…go on, get outta here! Pesky things, go on,
git!
”

The birds flew off together, but they didn’t scare very far. They flew to the nearest tree with little cause for alarm. Doll appeared aggravated as Eddie approached to ask, “How’d you get them to fly up to you like that?” He went on, “Forget it. Don’t answer. We better get that bird poop off you before Chantain sees it. She’ll have a cow. Bad enough she doesn’t wash your clothes…guess I’m gonna be the one that cleans you all the time. Now she’s got the excuse she’s been waiting for.
She’s working
.”

After he’d finished up with Doll and stuck the letter in the mailbox, he picked up Doll and continued toward the house: “Boy, you’re just full of surprises. What’s getting into you? You don’t smell like bird food or anything. Is it that new stinky smell I smell? How long since you had a bath? Mommy knows that answer. Must have been a week ago.”

Eddie and Doll stayed inside for the rest of the afternoon while the great outdoors slowly gave up the day. House lights came on as the sun settled in the east. The distant tree line surrounding the Coolidge place began to turn distinctive shades of gray. Silhouettes remained. The sky too began to change, giving up its bright blues for mystical hues of yellow, orange, and red.

Doll soaked in the bathtub while Eddie hobbled through the kitchen and up to one of the backyard windows just to gaze at the colorful cape in the sky. He took the time to recognize peaceful, pleasant things just then. Besides the sunset being a little more beautiful than usual, he stood there long
enough to precariously notice the darkness coming all too quickly.

Like the coming of night, Eddie’s face drew darker by the minute until he found himself looking through a window of black where he could see no more. He moved away, but the clock on the wall troubled him. To avoid being bothered by the time, he hobbled to the center of his home and swung an uneasy glance all around him. Quite honestly, his feeling of emptiness was only compounded at this point.

Suddenly he remembered Doll, who was still in the bathtub alone. When he hobbled to the open bathroom door, he noticed that Doll had dozed off in the shallow water to no surprise. Eddie gently picked him up, dried him off, and carried him to bed. It wasn’t quite that simple for him to do this, it seemed. Sadness rocked him with his newly appointed, fatherly deeds he could have thought were for Chantain.

He refused to go to bed, even though he made small preparations for it. Slowly, he began to turn off the lights throughout the house, one by one. Then, while dragging his feet into the kitchen, he thought about sitting down for some odd reason. For the moment he stared at the last light still on, above the kitchen table. It hung so low with its heavy shade that it was hard to see just how much more of the grief that kept growing upon his face. He looked on, as if he were overburdened with a sad hunch. While deflating his breath, he sat down anyway. A soft wisp escaped him, sounding more like the sudden exhale of depression rather than fatigue.

Besides Chantain being gone, his worries seemed less than numerous on the flip side. Yes, she was out of the house, but she was volunteering her time and doing them a favor in tithing. They had left a church he didn’t like, and now they were going back to their old church, which he was clearly happy about. Doll was already walking around smart as a whip and he was theirs to keep. The house they rented seemed nice enough. Their corny car was even fixed. None
of this, however, seemed to be enough to keep him from the sudden bout of emotion he was dealing with.

Explanations were few, but somehow, he looked as though he were still chasing the dream of a comfortable life. He let his eyes drift toward the things meaningful to him such as the brass handle of his cane and at his old dog, Major, on his bed, but what got him the most was the stark silence that surrounded him. With only the ticking of the clock on the wall, he jumped, glancing up quickly at the time it displayed. He looked at the clock again, reading the time which changed everything. Suddenly, he snapped back and said, “Ten o’clock.”

Disheartening thoughts came to mind, but he yawned them away. Then he looked for something else to do while he waited for Chantain to come home which wasn’t far from his reach. A small paperback book left on the table by Chantain caught his eye. He grabbed it up for a quick examination. Quickly, he discovered it to be one of her science fiction books. The scene glaring right at him on the cover was hard to miss. It was a vivid casting of numerous flying saucer machines walking on earth, blowing up everything in sight.

After getting an eyeful, he didn’t show much feeling for it, so he fanned the pages, killing more time than interest. This went by for a while until he opened it up to learn more of what her book was about. He muttered, “Published in 1900? Martians back then?
Pssss
, no way.” He shook his exhausted face, then threw the book back onto the table where it twirled to a stop at the edge.

Indeed, as time went by, he realized he was wasting more of it. Something became clear to him while snooping around with Chantain’s reading material. He was becoming more jaded.

Chantain’s book, once again, drew his attention. Gravity seemed to hold it there half way off the table quite nicely. While barely moving, he used his cane to shove it back to
safety. Once done, he did little more than grow sleepier by the minute.

Minutes turned into an hour before a glimmer of headlights made their way through the pitch-black forest outside. The recognizable flickers were just short of solid beams belonging only to one vehicle for that neck of the woods. The dim six volts barely kept them glowing as they drove between the trees, getting closer. No doubt who it was by then. Chantain was making good use of her newly tuned engine as she crept back toward the home without a single misfire.

The mailboxes out in the street lit up as she turned into the driveway. She quietly came to a stop and shut her lights off and stepped out of the Pribil, revealing only her silhouette. Quietly again, she continued across the driveway and onto the porch.