Under the Dome

Rose’s face lit up. She raised a fresh cup of coffee and toasted the TV screen with it. “Lookin good, Wolfie! You can eat crackers in my bed anytime you want.”

“Colonel Cox, are there any plans to add a press conference with the town officials? We understand that Second Selectman James Rennie is the actual man in charge. What’s going on with that?”

“We are trying to make a press conference happen, with Mr. Rennie and any other town officials who might be in attendance. That would be at noon, if things run to the schedule we have in mind.”

A round of spontaneous applause from the reporters greeted this. There was nothing they liked better than a press conference, unless it was a high-priced politician caught in bed with a high-priced whore.

Cox said, “Ideally, the presser will take place right there on the road, with the town spokespersons, whoever they might be, on their side and you ladies and gentlemen on this one.”

Excited gabble. They liked the visual possibilities.

Cox pointed. “Mr. Holt.”

Lester Holt from NBC shot to his feet. “How sure are you that Mr. Rennie will attend? I ask because there have been reports of financial mismanagement on his part, and some sort of criminal investigation into his affairs by the State of Maine Attorney General.”

“I’ve heard those reports,” Cox said. “I’m not prepared to comment on them, although Mr. Rennie may want to.” He paused, not quite smiling. “I’d certainly want to.”

“Rita Braver, Colonel Cox, CBS. Is it true that Dale Barbara, the man you tapped as emergency administrator in Chester’s Mill, has been arrested for murder? That the Chester’s Mill police in fact believe him to be a serial killer?”

Total silence from the press; nothing but attentive eyes. The same was true of the four people seated at the counter in Sweetbriar Rose.

“It’s true,” Cox said. A muted mutter went up from the assembled reporters. “But we have no way of verifying the charges or vetting whatever evidence there may be. What we have is the same telephone and Internet chatter you ladies and gentlemen are no doubt getting. Dale Barbara is a decorated officer. He’s never been arrested. I have known him for many years and vouched for him to the President of the United States. I have no reason to say I made a mistake based on what I know at this time.”

“Ray Suarez, Colonel, PBS. Do you believe the charges against Lieutenant Barbara—now Colonel Barbara— may have been politically motivated? That James Rennie may have had him jailed to keep him from taking control as the President ordered?”

And that’s what the second half of this dog-and-pony show is all about, Julia realized. Cox has turned the news media into the Voice of America, and we’re the people behind the Berlin Wall. She was all admiration.

“If you have a chance to question Selectman Rennie on Friday, Mr. Suarez, you be sure to ask him that.” Cox spoke with a kind of stony calm. “Ladies and gentlemen, that’s all I have.”

He strode off as briskly as he’d entered, and before the assembled reporters could even begin shouting more questions, he was gone.

“Holy wow,” Ernie murmured.

“Yeah,” Jackie said.

Rose killed the TV. She looked glowing, energized. “What time is this meeting? I don’t regret a thing that Colonel Cox said, but this could make Barbie’s life more difficult.”

2

Barbie found out about Cox’s press conference when a red-faced Manuel Ortega came downstairs and told him. Ortega, formerly Alden Dinsmore’s hired man, was now wearing a blue workshirt, a tin badge that looked homemade, and a.45 hung on a second belt that had been buckled low on his hips, gunslinger-style. Barbie knew him as a mild fellow with thinning hair and perpetually sunburned skin who liked to order breakfast for dinner— pancakes, bacon, eggs over easy—and talk about cows, his favorite being the Belted Galloways that he could never persuade Mr. Dinsmore to buy. He was Yankee to the core in spite of his name, and had a dry Yankee sense of humor. Barbie had always liked him. But this was a different Manuel, a stranger with all the good humor boiled dry. He brought news of the latest development, most of it shouted through the bars and accompanied by a considerable dose of flying spit. His face was nearly radioactive with rage.

“Not a word about how they found your dog tags in that poor girl’s hand, not word-fucking- one about that! And then the tin-pants bastid went and took after Jim Rennie, who’s held this town together by himself since this happened! By himself! With SPIT and BALING WIRE!”

“Take it easy, Manuel,” Barbie said.

“That’s Officer Ortega to you, motherfucker!”

“Fine. Officer Ortega.” Barbie was sitting on the bunk and thinking about just how easy it would be for Ortega to unholster the elderly.45 Schofield on his belt and start shooting. “I’m in here, Rennie’s out there. As far as he’s concerned, I’m sure it’s all good.”

“SHUT UP!” Manuel screamed. “We’re ALL in here! All under the fucking Dome! Alden don’t do nothing but drink, the boy that’s left won’t eat, and Miz Dinsmore never stops crying over Rory. Jack Evans blew his brains out, do you know that? And those military pukes out there can’t think of anything better to do than sling mud. A lot of lies and trumped-up stories while you start supermarket riots and then burn down our newspaper! Probably so Miz Shumway couldn’t publish WHAT YOU ARE! ”

Barbie kept silent. He thought that one word spoken in his own defense would get him shot for sure.

“This is how they get any politician they don’t like,” Manuel said. “They want a serial killer and a rapist—one who rapes the dead—in charge instead of a Christian? That’s a new low.”

Manuel drew his gun, lifted it, pointed it through the bars. To Barbie the hole at the end looked as big as a tunnel entrance.

“If the Dome comes down before you been stood up against the nearest wall and ventilated,” Manuel continued, “I’ll take a minute to do the job myself. I’m head of the line, and right now in The Mill, the line waiting to do you is a long one.”

Barbie kept silent and waited to die or keep on drawing breath. Rose Twitchell’s BLTs were trying to crowd back up his throat and choke him.

“We’re trying to survive and all they can do is dirty up the man who’s keeping this town out of chaos.” He abruptly shoved the oversized pistol back into its holster. “Fuck you. You’re not worth it.”

He turned and strode back toward the stairs, head down and shoulders hunched.

Barbie leaned back against the wall and let out a breath. There was sweat on his forehead. The hand he lifted to wipe it off was shaking.

3

When Romeo Burpee’s van turned into the McClatchey driveway, Claire rushed out of the house. She was weeping.

“Mom!” Joe shouted, and was out even before Rommie could come to a complete stop. The others piled out after. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Claire sobbed, grabbing him and hugging him. “There’s going to be a Visitors Day! On Friday! Joey, I think we might get to see your dad!”

Joe let out a cheer and danced her around. Benny hugged Norrie… and took the opportunity to steal a quick