Rope — 100’ in shed
Charts, maps, approach plates — worldwide — base ops or wing scheduling desk
Knee boards — in briefcase
Flight computer — in briefcase
Paper tablet — writing on one
Felt pens — red, black, and blue
Binoculars
Weapons — shotgun, Beretta, knives, ammo
I pull off the exit ramp just as we finish our list. This list is going to put a serious dent in the available space we have in the Jeep. Especially with four people. I am assuming Michelle is going with us. I think about using the truck at the gas station but we may manage with the Jeep. This has been a long day. It feels like a week has passed since getting the kids just this morning.
“Okay, tell me where I need to go Robert.”
“Just go up by Capital, it’s only a couple of blocks away from the school,” he answers putting the tablet with the list on it back in the glove compartment and pulls out his phone.
After several seconds, he says, “We’re just pulling off the highway and almost there.” He listens says, “Okay,” after getting what I can only assume is a reply and closes his phone.
“She’s waiting outside for us,” he says turning to me.
I had expected a little traffic or to see someone at least but we are met with the same severe lack of movement as we drive through the west side of Olympia. There are very few cars on the road, meaning off the road on the side or in parking lots. At the stoplight about to turn left, a Safeway to our right gives the same message as did the Wal-Mart and Fred Meyer earlier. No one is here. The stoplight ahead blinks red, the only indication that mankind was here not so long ago.
I turn left and a high school baseball field appears to our right. To the left, the new strip mall is vacant. Well, almost; I see two cars sitting in the lot.
“Well?” I ask as the baseball field slides past us.
“Turn right here and then a left in front of the school,” he nods toward the street we are approaching.
A cat wanders out of the trees and dashes across the street vanishing between two houses as we approach the high school. The normal things you would see as far as animals go thrown in with the total lack of people just makes everything all that much more eerie. A painted rock appears on the right by some trees. This is the high school rock the seniors paint as the school year progressed; changing colors throughout the year. I remember that rock well. Not that I attended here but I used to live fairly close.
One night, a girlfriend of mine decided, along with her friend, that it would be a good idea to paint the rock. Oh, I might add there was a little alcohol involved with that decision. As was seemingly usual, I was tasked to go along. There was my girlfriend, her friend, several Mike’s hard lemonades, a can of spray paint, and me. Every time a car would come by, they would whisper-scream ‘a car’ and scramble back into trees and bushes. I would just stand there and watch them do their ninja impressions. I mean, we were just painting a rock; hardly something that was going to get us anything like solitary confinement or pounding rocks with hammers.
With the addition of more drinks, the whisper-screams became less of a whisper and more of a scream and the scrambles into the trees would get a little further from the road. Oh, did I mention there was a large, steep hill. Well, it was inevitable. Like an apple hanging from a tree, it was only a matter of time before the apple let go and fell to the ground. Then, the apple let go. One of the many ‘a car’ notifications and subsequent ninja moves was followed by a screech which was itself followed milliseconds later by a second one. I turned to look as both of their flawless ninja impressions transitioned into that of an avalanche; both literally going head over heels and tumbling down the hill. That was when I learned that laughing heartily, until tears streamed down my face, at two women who had just scraped a hillside free of shrubbery with multiple parts of their bodies was not conducive to one’s health; note taken.
I turn left in front of the school and see a blond girl sitting by the curb about a block and a half away. I have never met Michelle but have seen her a couple of times when dropping Robert off. She is sitting on a military-style duffle bag with a suitcase sitting beside her. We pull up next to the curb. She brushes off her jeans and picks up her duffle. Robert jumps out as soon as we stop and walks to her as I scan the neighborhood.
Just your normal middle-class neighborhood; houses built close together, small front yards, concrete driveways leading up to double car garages. Not that there is absolutely anything wrong with that, just that the contractors building these neighborhoods only build three or four different varieties and use paint colors to provide the variety. The road we are on ends a half block up in a “T” intersection; houses at the end and across the intersection continue to the right and left in the same styles. All of the windows stare back emptily. Some of them have the drapes pulled across the windows and others have curtains drawn back revealing only darkness behind.
I continue to watch the neighborhood looking for any movement as Robert gives Michelle a quick hug, grabs her suitcase, and both of them head to the back throwing her gear into the rear seat. My thoughts once again turn to how much room we are going to have versus how much we are going to need. The truck, or any truck, is sounding like a better idea for packing our gear and driving up to McChord tomorrow. The thought that crosses my mind for seemingly the hundredth time is that I would love to find and raid an armory at either McChord or at FortLewis. I feel though that time is of the essence and there won’t be time to play hide and seek with an armory.
I step out as they finish with the gear and walk back to them. “Hi Michelle, I’m Jack,” I say and she sticks out her hand. I shake it and continue, “Sorry to meet you for the first time under these circumstances and doubly sorry to ask you this, but do you know if your parents have any weapons?”
She looks up at me with blue eyes; a shade darker than either Robert’s or Bri’s
“Yes, my dad had, or has guns in his closet.”
“Do you think we could get them?” I ask bringing myself back to focus on the now and feeling a little embarrassed about asking.
“I can run in and get them,” she says.
“Is there anyone or anything in the house that was with you?”
“Not that I saw or heard and I’ve been in there since yesterday morning,” she answers starting toward the front door.
“Robert, go with her.”
Better to put Robert into a controlled scenario knowing that, at some point, he is going to need confidence and experience in various situations and I am going to have to get past the protective mode. Michelle has been here for some time and is unharmed so it seems like an ideal situation to start. He has been with me for many years so he knows some things, but well, I don’t know what I would do if I lost him, especially if it was through something I caused or allowed. Same for Nic and Bri. And hoping Lynn was truly okay.
Michelle stops her door-bound trek on the green grass of her lawn waiting for Robert. He trots around to the passenger side to pick up the shotgun and then heads toward Michelle.
“Robert,” I call over to him. An almost disguised sigh escapes him before he turns and comes over.
“There’s probably nothing in there but it’s going to be fairly dark so make sure you know where Michelle is at all times, especially if you see movement and are thinking about firing. Your best bet if you do see or sense anything is for the two of you to back out of there. Stay with her but cover your six and any doors you come across. There’s no need to open any doors that are already shut and check the rooms. The doors opening will be your early warning system. No risks. In and out. You got it!?” I tell him is a low voice so Michelle can’t hear.
I know he wants to look good in front of her, I mean, he’s seventeen, but wanting to look good or act the hero can make one take foolish risks or make mistakes. Sometimes you have to do what you have to do but this is different.
“Okay,” he says.
This could possibly turn into one of the longest minutes of my life and it’s eating me up. I watch them enter
