Desperate Times 2 Gun Control Page 12

  He tried the doors and windows and found them to be locked. This had become increasingly rare. Jimmy’s heart nearly skipped a beat after he kicked the door open and entered the dark, stale pole shed. Jimmy saw them sitting there and counted twice. There were six of them—six snowmobiles sitting under canvas covers, looking to him like wrapped Christmas presents under the tree. Jimmy pulled open both of the overhead doors, and morning daylight streamed inside.

  The building was roughly forty by sixty feet long, and the owner had obviously spent a lot of time out there. Jimmy had heard of such places, but he had never seen one for himself. He found himself standing inside a man cave, complete with a bar, pool table, kitchenette, bathroom, and a workshop to die for. Jimmy smiled and shook his head sadly. All of this was such a waste. He walked over to the snowmobiles and began to remove the covers. Each of the machines seemed to be newer and in better condition than the one before it. The next to the last snowmobile had thirty miles on it and looked like something from another planet. Jimmy admired it for a long moment, claiming it as his own before walking to the back of the shop and lifting the last cover.

  The machine was bright yellow, and the handles were chrome. The seat was long, and the track was supported by groups of little wheels. Jimmy thought the snowmobile had to be older than he was—much, much older than he was. The old machine was in excellent condition, and Jimmy lifted the hood. The one-cylinder engine looked as clean as it probably had on the day it rolled off the assembly line. Jimmy chuckled as he examined the heavy monster. There was no suspension, and to Jimmy, the snowmobile looked like a Model-T Ford. He then went to the bar and lit up a cigarette. He was happy for the first time in many days. He had found enough snowmobiles for all of them, and it seemed like a miracle.

  The first real snow of the season fell during the second week of November. The snow began to fall in the afternoon and didn’t stop until the next morning. Jimmy and Doc were sitting on the porch as the sun began to break through the clouds.

  “That’s it then,” whispered Doc, looking over his shoulder. “I’m getting out of here while I still can. I’m going to borrow one of your snowmobiles and head over to Bailey’s. I think you ought to follow me there.”

  Jimmy held his hands to his lips and walked over to the open French doors. He then peered inside the living room. Orange flames leapt inside the fireplace, and Jimmy could feel the heat. Burt was lying on his side on the sofa, his casted arm resting on his hip. Burt’s eyes were closed, and no one else was in the room. Jimmy returned to Doc.

  “I’ve given it a lot of thought. I can’t stay here, not for the winter,” continued Doc. “I should be where I’m needed. So should you.”

  Jimmy still hadn’t said a word, and Doc stared at him without expression. “They don’t need me over there,” Jimmy said. “I think I’m gonna pass.”

  Doc’s face tightened, and he narrowed his eyes. “Julie needs you. Cindy needs you. And like it or not, Bill needs you. These people here, they don’t need us. There will be no more attacks, no more visits by the National Guard. Winter is here, and all anyone can do now is hunker down and wait it out.”

  “I’m not going back there to peel potatoes for eight hours a day. That’s bullshit.”

  “Look, I’m a doctor and they need me. I’ve thought about this. I’m going to tell them that you and I will stay for as long as we’re happy there. I highly doubt they’ll put you back on a potato peeler.”

  Jimmy’s head snapped back, and he stared at Doc in amazement. This was the answer to his prayers. He missed Julie terribly, but he couldn’t leave the Dahlgrens. Now if Doc was right, the danger had passed with the arrival of the new-fallen snow. Jimmy knew that there were no guarantees there, but he felt that Doc was most likely correct in his summation. People do hunker down for the winter, especially in northern Minnesota. What really stuck inside Jimmy’s head was how Doc planned to keep him out of the kitchen. There was no way they’d stick him back in the kitchen, Jimmy was sure of it. Doc had giftwrapped the plan and now was handing it to Jimmy.

  “Well?” asked Doc. “What do you think?”

  “What time do we leave?”

  “Excellent. I’m going to go tell Ken and Patty. Don’t worry about them; they know all about this. They think you should go patch things up with Julie.”

  “You guys have been talking about me?”

  Doc gave Jimmy an odd look. “Yeah,” he said, walking towards the open doors. “What else are we supposed to do up here?”

  Jimmy wanted to respond to that, but Doc’s long legs carried him quickly into the next room. Jimmy stood in the window and stared out at the snow-covered lake. Just like that, everything had changed, and he suddenly had something to look forward to. He rubbed his hand across his jaw and quickly sniffed at his armpits. He was going to have to get himself cleaned up.

  Jimmy drew water from the tap into Patty’s big iron kettle. He then set it on the gas stove, set the burner to high, and went upstairs in search of something to wear. The air was much cooler up here, and Jimmy shivered as he picked through his rumpled clothes. Jimmy hadn’t thought about his wardrobe much since they’d arrived at Ken’s. He owned exactly three pair of jeans, six shirts, and half a dozen changes of socks and underwear. Thankfully, Ken had outfitted him with winter gear.

  Jimmy felt funny as he stood in front of the mirror after his sponge-bath. He couldn’t help feeling as if he and Doc were betraying the others. He also badly needed a haircut, and one of his back teeth had begun to ache. He stuck his finger in his mouth and probed the tooth. The ache quickly became a pain, and he pulled his hand away. He was going to have to ask Doc to do something about that.

  When Jimmy emerged from the bathroom, he was surprised to find Doc standing out on the porch. Two black duffel bags which looked ready to split at the seams sat next to the door. Doc stood at the window in his ill-fitting winter jacket. The sleeves ended midway down his forearms, and Jimmy thought he looked like a big kid in a poor family.

  “Are you packed?” Doc asked. “I’m ready to go.”

  “Not yet, but that’ll just take a few minutes.”

  “I’ll wait here.”

  “Where is everyone? Don’t they even want to say goodbye?”

  “No, they don’t. I’m sorry, go now and get packed.”

  Jimmy stood in stunned silence for a moment. He then turned on his heels and quickly walked back into the kitchen, around the table and to the stairs. He paused at the window. Ken was splitting wood with an axe while one-armed Burt, Patty, and Rita, helped him with the heavy logs. Patty caught his eye in the window, and she quickly looked away. None of them were smiling. Jimmy sprinted up the stairs as his eyes began to mist over. He jammed his stuff into his bag and ran back down the stairs to pack his shaving kit. A few minutes later they stood at the wall. Jimmy pulled back on the snow-covered log that served as a lock, and Doc shoved on the heavy gate. The gate groaned in the cold air.

  “Should we tell them we’re leaving so Ken can lock up?” Jimmy asked, feeling rotten about how they were leaving.

  “They know we’re leaving. Ken will be down soon.”

  “What the hell happened back there? I thought you said that they would be okay with us leaving.”

  Doc pushed the gate back to the closed position and he shouldered his bags. His face was pale, and he looked as if he were in pain. “Let’s not talk about that now. Let’s get moving.”

  The snow rose to the top of their boots as they walked down the white ribbon of gravel road. Jimmy led the way, and Doc followed; neither man said a word. The snow seemed to absorb the sound, and Jimmy could hear nothing except the sound of his own feet crunching through the snow as he plodded ahead. Again he wished for a pair of sunglasses. The sun was high in a blue sky, and the rays reflected off of the clean powder. Jimmy shook his head as his mind kept returning to how they had left. They walked for nearly fifteen minutes before they reached the long driveway into the woods. Jimmy led them past the
house and to the back of the property. He opened the big garage door and was relieved to find that everything was as he’d left it.

  The walk hadn’t been that long, but the snow had made it difficult. Both Jimmy and Doc set down their bags and sat themselves down in a pair of leather recliners for a quick rest.

  “This is nice,” Doc said, looking around, appreciatively. “I wonder who owned this place? There was a time when I knew everyone up here.”

  “Tell me what happened back there.”

  Doc stiffened and scratched at his salty beard. “I suppose I need to tell you the truth. Just promise me that you’ll hear me out. No interruptions, all right?”

  Jimmy stood, narrowed his eyes and nodded his head.

  “I lied about how Ken and Patty felt. I needed to get you away from there.”

  “No!”

  “Jimmy, you promised,” Doc said, shaking a long finger in his direction. “You don’t owe your life to Ken and Patty Dahlgren. There is a woman who loves you not ten miles from here. That should be your focus. Do you have any idea how lucky you are? I’m trying to help you. You need to understand that. No, Ken said a mouthful, and I’m glad you didn’t have to hear it.”

  “I can’t believe you lied to me,” Jimmy said, collapsing back into the chair. “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth? Sure, I miss Julie. That doesn’t mean that I was ready to abandon the others. What if something happens to them?”

  “Like what? They have hand grenades and .50 caliber automatic weapons, remember?”

  Jimmy didn’t like the sarcasm in Doc’s voice. “To protect themselves,” he added. “What do you have against that? They have every right to do that.”

  Now it was Doc’s turn to stand. He got up and walked behind the little bar. “I’m sick and tired of that whole frame of mind. We have to change that or we’re all doomed. You, me, Ken, everybody—we’re all in this together. We are not the enemy. The government and the military are who we should be fighting. This is all about divide and conquer, Jimmy. Divide and conquer!”

  Jimmy watched Doc as he twisted the cap open on a bottle of whiskey. He held the bottle to his lips and took a swallow. He grimaced and offered the bottle to Jimmy.

  Jimmy held out his arm and nodded. “So, what is Ken supposed to do if he gets attacked again?”

  Doc handed Jimmy the bottle and sat back down in his chair. “You don’t understand what I’m saying. Look, Ken needs to wake up and smell the coffee. He needs to form some alliances, and if he had a lick of sense, he would pack up everyone and head to Bailey’s with us. He’s putting all of their lives in jeopardy. Can’t you see that?”

  “Why should he have to give up what he has?” Jimmy asked, taking a swig from the bottle. The cold liquor burned in his throat and warmed his insides. “Ken has every right to stay there and protect his home.”

  “You are one hundred percent correct. I’m not arguing that. All I am saying here is that we are all in this together. We need to get our act together before it’s too late!”

  Jimmy stood up and handed Doc the bottle. Doc twisted the cap back into place and slid it into the side pocket of his nylon jacket. Jimmy walked over to the uncovered snowmobiles and sat down on the one that he wanted to ride. “I still can’t believe you lied to me,” he said, shaking his head. “That was wrong and you know it.”

  “Go back, if that’s what you wish to do. Ken will understand.”

  Jimmy gave half a laugh and shook his head. “Maybe in a few days, I’m going to let him cool off for a while. I do want to see Julie.”

  “I know you do, so let’s get this show on the road. How do I drive one of these things?”

  Jimmy looked at Doc and began to laugh. He waved Doc over to where he was and quickly explained the basics of operating a snowmobile.

  “That’s all there is?” Doc asked. “Where are the pedals?”

  “There aren’t any,” Jimmy groaned. “Look, the throttle is here, and the brake is over there. This switch kills the engine. Just twist the key to start it.”

  Doc smiled and nodded, and again Jimmy saw the big kid in the large man. Doc walked back to retrieve his bags. “Will these fit in the trunk?” he asked. “I’ve got medical supplies in this one, so we have to be careful with it.”

  “There aren’t any trunks. We’re going to have to figure out something. I was hoping the guy would have a toboggan or something else we could tow our gear in. Do you need both bags? Maybe we could come back for one of them.”

  Doc grimaced and shook his head. “I can walk,” he said.

  “We’re not walking,” Jimmy said as he walked around each of the machines. All of them had single seats, and they all looked built for speed. Jimmy’s eyes fell on the bright yellow antique. The old snowmobile had a seat long enough to fit two full-grown men. Jimmy looked at their bags and back to the old machine. “Fine,” he said, gesturing to the yellow Skidoo. “I can fit everything on that one. Let me make sure it still runs.”

  The machine coughed, caught, and belched blue smoke on the third pull. Doc smiled, a bit guiltily. “Think of it as riding a piece of history,” he shouted over the loping, one-cylinder engine.

  Jimmy toyed with the choke and pointed to the overhead door. “Open it up!” he commanded. “And grab me that rope over there. We may need it. I don’t like the sound of this thing. He was serious—it didn’t sound like anything he had ever heard. The machine was older than he was. He spun the cap on the fuel tank and saw that it had been topped off. Doc opened the door, and Jimmy rode the old sled out of the garage on one knee. Smoke rolled out of the pole shed and out into the blue sky. Doc jogged over to his snowmobile and hesitated. Jimmy rode the Skidoo around the yard and watched Doc as he tentatively sat down on the seat.

  Jimmy’s Skidoo suddenly bucked violently, nearly throwing him over the handlebars. He jerked his head back to see what he’d hit. The split log looked like a speed-bump in the white snow. Jimmy slammed on the handbrake, stopping the lumbering machine. Doc suddenly shot out of the pole barn on the Polaris and was now heading towards Jimmy at a very high rate of speed.

  “Oh shit,” Jimmy mumbled to himself.

  Doc’s Polaris screamed by at break-neck speed and missed Jimmy by no more than three feet. Jimmy gasped as he saw the big man suddenly leap from the seat and begin to barrel-roll toward the woods. Jimmy squeezed the throttle, watching as the Polaris exploded into pieces against the trunk of a fat birch. The Skidoo responded like a drunken mule, and he cursed his luck. Jimmy lost sight of Doc as the giant rolled into the woods behind his machine. The Skidoo found more buried treasure, and Jimmy mowed it over without looking back.

  Jimmy was sure he’d ridden faster lawnmowers as he raced to the woods. There was no speedometer on this model, and Jimmy’s ears rang from the blaring engine of the Skidoo. It suddenly hit him that Doc could be dead. The guilt hammered at him as he wondered what the others would think when he told them that Doc had never ridden a snowmobile. They would blame him for Doc’s death. Jimmy thought again and opted not to share that bit of information with the others. The Skidoo backfired, but it picked up speed as the old engine began to buzz. Jimmy stood on the floorboards and hunched over the controls. He quickly found where Doc had hit the ground. Jimmy could not believe how far the big man had rolled before he suddenly found him, lying face-down in the powder. Jimmy was sure he was dead.

  Jimmy jumped from the Skidoo as it stopped and raced to Doc’s side. “Doc!” he shouted. “Doc, are you all right? Can you hear me?”

  Doc’s massive hand shot out and took Jimmy firmly by the ankle. “Why didn’t you tell me they were so damn fast?” croaked Doc. “Oh, shit.”

  Jimmy caught his breath as relief flooded his system. “Did you break anything?” he asked. “Come on, let me help you up.”

  Jimmy’s leg was suddenly pulled out from under him so violently that Jimmy thought it would snap like a twig. “Ouch!” he shouted as he fell to the ground.

  “I asked you a ques
tion!” bellowed Doc.

  “I thought you knew.”

  “Don’t ever assume such a thing,” Doc grunted, releasing his grip on Jimmy. “Your shoddy instructions nearly cost me my life.”

  Jimmy sat up and kept his mouth closed. Doc was right, and he felt terrible about that. Doc sat up next to him and got to his feet. He stood towering over Jimmy, swaying like a battered boxer. He brushed himself off and groaned. “I’m sorry,” Jimmy said, sitting up in the snow. “That won’t happen again.”