Chapter 10, All the King's men - rewrite

Bumpersville, 1984

"These two men," the gentleman said while pointing to a photograph of the Petro-Chem plant, "these two look like locals."

"Thems the Hilcocks, sold land to Petro-Chem," Billie answered.

"Why'd they bother doing this photo if all the valley residents hated the interlopers?" the gentleman asked.

"Not all did, some din't."

"They still around?"

"No," Bille replied.

"Just seems odd, they'd have no reason to leave the valley unless they couldn't keep they's farm or something. You know what happend to them?"

"No, they gone since I remember. Dun' know what happen to them."

"And this one, looks like the same man from the other photo, the younger one in front of the hardware store just down the road. These others all look like valley farmers and not the newcomers."

"If you say so," Billie replied.

The man continued to study each photograph along the wall intently. Billie sat in her chair with an impassive expression upon her face. Despite the company, she wondered how long the man was going to interrogate her about places and people whom she'd never met nor knew. Although she had the photographs along the wall, they were just faces and places to her of another time.

"How about any of these other men? They still around?"

"No, none of them far I know."

"Do you know any of thier names perhaps?" the man asked.

"Hilcock, Banks, and Mumsford an' the owner of Huebner's Hardware."

"They all look like they're friends, though this Hilcock fellow seems to have the same smile from the other photo. And this guy looks a little surly," the gentleman said and moved on to the next photo in line.

"That was different time," Billie replied and shifted in her seat.


HappyValley, 1960

The sun brought dawn to the residents of Happy Valley as it always did and would if you believed in the steadiness of nature as one of the constants in the universe. Jim built his life around this steadiness. There was a time for work and a time for rest; winter was the resting for both the soil and the body that worked it. However, there was always the miscelaneous chore to be done even on the coldest of mornings. Holes needed to be patched on the barn, fences needed attention, animals needed thier care, and the equipment needed to be maintained lest the worn belt or the drying gear box suddenly break when it is most needed in the spring.

Today was just another day of the doldrums of being stuck indoors. The living room was nice and toasty, hot by comparison upon his cheeks which were still red from the cold outside as he saw to it that the children where tending to thier chores. It was quiet, Sally was sitting in her easy chair knitting a sweatter she planned on presenting to her mother for christmas and the slitght "tick, tick, tick" of her needles was the only sound. The children had scattered to the four winds the moment Jim had given them the nod that their chores were completed for the day, leaving the two adults to the solitude of the room. It was a rare pleasure but was becoming less rare as the children grew up. From the days of constant noise and scrambling around seeing to who was hurt or who was fighting with whome with few moments to the self to the growing realization that one day they would miss all of that.

Jim stared into the fire and watched the flames lick the top of the brick and up into the flew. Each flame had a brief life of its own, soaring upwards in a frenzied dance, reaching for the top of the fireplace and just as suddenly dying out. Life was this flame, only slower in motion but no less as brief as the progress tallied upon the crust of the earth that he worked.

Thier living room was a typical farmstead's. The room was not over large, just enough to fit the adults comfortably and ranged around the fireplace for the obvious reasons of winter warmth and entertainment. Above the mantle were the obsequious hunting nick nacks and the old smooth bore rifle that made the rounds from father to son and so on since the civil war. Jim would pass it on to his first son once he was old enough to appreciate its age and significance. The rest of the livingroom was just as rustic; wood flooring and walls gave the it a dark and comforting feeling like walking into a ready made haven for relaxing; coupled with the warmth of the fire Jim always had to fight to stay awake in these moments. Large windows fronted the opposite wall to where Jim was sitting that opened the view to the south of Happy Valley. On a clear day, one could see up to the hill leading to the cross roads. It used to be that all one could see was barren ground up at the crest of before Happy Valley Road/State214 began its plunge into the lower lands of the valley. Now it was crowned with houses, not an unwelcome site as far as the view went, but different enough to remind one that something was amiss.

The chiars and couch were drawn away from that side of the room during the winter. Like wagons being circled during an indian raid, the seating was gathered around the fire place as that portion of the room was always cold and forbidding to tarry in. The windows were now fogged as the tug of war between heat and cool obscured them with a thin layer of moisture. It was just as well for the view was one of unending white that blinded.

Breakfast still wafted upon the air as the odor of eggs and sausage added to Jim's satisfied stomach and the peacefullness of the fire lulled him. It was good, it was all good he would think at such times as this. The farm would go on one more season at least and having gathered what was sown they had nothing to do but feast upon the stores of good fortune. It was also at these times of quiet that memories of the war intruded upon his enjoyment of rest. Despite the years they never faded nor seemed to be quieted. They came and went with the mystery of a cold, attacking when least expected and staying like an unwanted in-law.

To combat these visions Jim would have to rise from his rest and begin something new to chase them away; the warmth enduced lethargy was gaining the upperhand. It was during winters that they visited him most; memories of countless cold hours stuck upon the slopes of Snakes Head Ridge at Monte Cassino and under a constant lethal fire. It was the cold that he remembered, the numbing cold that could not be shaken off nor quieted. Only the mission mattered, scaling the heights, establishing a bridgehead over the Rapido River, and holding on until relief could be sent. Comfort was not a requirement of the infantry.

Peacefullness also seemed to be the time that the memories came, as if to shatter them purposefully, reminding him that life is not always so and is by far anethema to it. Despite the twenty three years since his time in the army and those days on the slopes of Cassino, Jim carried the memories in clearer detail than he remembered what he did last week. Perhaps it was the trauma or the cold or the tenacity of thier enemy or all of them combined that produced this frightening clarity of recolleciton.

Unwittlingly, the warmth of the fire and the quiet did thier work upon him and he fell asleep nestled into the folds of the couch.

****

The hours of resltessness were about to be relieved by a more frighening endeavor. It was a queer happenstance, the preparation for an operation kept the mind focused on the cleaning of weapons and the checking of equipment incumbant of responsibilities of the platoon leader. Yet, once all of this was dispensed with the interminable wait was more oppressive than running a gauntlet of fire towards an entrenched enemy. They were waiting for the signal in assault groups stretching along the banks of the Rapido River. Thier faces where haggard from days and days of sleeping in the winter cold of Italy and of days and days of fighting and marching. There would be no rest for them this night either.

H hour was nearing and darkness was closing in fast. The Germans chose thier ground well and it was upon this ground that Jim and his platoon had to negotiate. A mile of cleared and open landscape seperated the assault groups from the banks of the river. A landscape sown with mines and every inch of it ranged by enemy artillery. Heavy assault boats needed to be carried across this terrain that looked innocent enough in daylight but held mysteries that none of the assault groups knew anything about. No reconissiance was conducted nor could have been. Daylight, that friend of the fearful and scourge of the nighmare was the deadly time and any movement drew German artilery fire. Night was the only time anyone could move about and night was the only time to assault to establish a bridgehead on the opposite bank. The ancient benedictine monastery of Monte Cassino towered over the whole valley with its slopes and the town of Monte Cassino dotted with German defensive positions.

The cold was creeping in through the layers of clothing that Jim wore numbing his gloved fingers. His cheeks were an eternal red and burned by the elements. As the features of the ground dimmed that he and his platoon needed to cross Jim tried to catch one last moment of its features so as to make the quikest progress possible. They had been in this position for a day and yet he knew nothing of what lay ahead. Sappers and combat engineers sent out to clear paths in the mine fields reported swamps and sink holes but Jim didn't know where these were exactly, his vantage point revealing nothing but a rocky wasteland.

Keeping his voice to a whisper, though he didn't quite no why as they were a mile away from the nearest German post, Jim gave last minute instructions to his platoon. The faces were grimy and tired looking. Sleeping on the line had been a fruitless pursuit. Dark circles radiated under the eyes of each man, puffy and stiff fingers portruded through thier quarter gloves that exposed the fingertips only. Thier breaths billowed from nostrils and mouths as they huddled close more for warmth than for hearing.

"Ok boys, H hour is set for 0200 hours. Arty is going to soften up the opposite bank and we go during the barrage, make for the bank, it's steep going down to the water an' watch out for mines in the swamp. We got lots of ground ta cover in the open. We get across the river quick and set up a perimeter, just fan out but stay in contact. Engineers going to throw bridges across after we secure the other side an' relief is to come over those bridges. We on our own 'till relief comes, so make sure you got all the rounds you can carry. Sleep if you can, got a few more hours left."

There wasn't much else to do but to get comfortable and think warm thoughts. It was the warm thoughts that produced the struggle. The cold crepped in, saturated every successive layer until no matter how many layers one had on it found the skin and worked its purpose upon it. The face and fingers became numb the quickest but it was the torso that Jim tried to keep the cold from the longest. The problem was to many layers restricted movement so that even just standing up became an act of supreme strength. It was the time leading up to H hour that Jim swore time actually moved more slowly.

Then it happened, artillery rounds sailed over head and impacted on the river bank. It was time to rise up and charge forward and be done with it.

"Go," Jim shouted.

****

Jim woke with a start. The fire was still crackling, Sally still knitting, and the house still quiet and warm. He wasn't in Italy and it wasn't the war. He was where he needed to be and all was right with the world.

"I s'ppose I'm gonna go up to the Hardware store for a bit, Sal," Jim said finally as he regained his senses.

"Alright, just be back from your jaw'in in time for lunch, not cooking fer myself," Sally replied without missing a beat or looking up.

"I actually do have to go get a few things," Jim grinned, "but the jawin' as you puts it is also on the agenda." Jim walked over to the row of coats that hung upon hooks on the backside of the front door and donned his heavy wool army greatcoat. The sudden smell of it reminded him briefly of that night at Cassino and he shivered. For a moment Jim wondered at the propriety of keeping and wearing the old coat especially after another episode but not wanting to make a scene of taking it off and donning another coat.

"I'll be back shortly," Jim leaned over and kissed Sally's head.

"Be careful, been icy out."

"I'm the portrait o caution," Jim replied and laughed. Opening the front door reminded him of the cold of that morning from his chores. It wasn't as cold as it could get, but was cold enough to make him thankful for a firepalce and the walls and roof to cover it.

The road had been plowed again and was wet with slush. The traffic heading his way was light and he took his time chugging up the hill lest his tires slip on the slippery stuff. At the hardware store where the usual culprits lounging on the old couch Huebner put there in front of the window. Coffee was always brewing and especially this winter.

"Fellers," Jim said as he closed the front door behind him.

"Jim, how's the cold fareing you?" Robert asked.

"Not too poorly."

"You read that sign out front," Willie asked.

"What sign?"

"Seems ole Pembrook is holdin' a meetin' back at the county school about encorporatin'. One wonders if he fancies hisself the first mayor of this lil community," Willie said and sipped at his mug. "Bastard."

"Seems it would be a good thing for all of this," Steven Huebner added from behind the group. "Get county help for services, get a school, get more utilities. Seems like a good thing."

"Humm, no I hadn't heard about it. When is it?" Jim asked.

"Next tuesday evening," Robert replied.

"Not unexpected I s'ppose," Jim stated.

"A school might not be that bad o' thing, save havin' to bus our kids to that county school," Robert said.

"Town'll just bring more people here, more people an' more problems. They's a few kids from the new comers who's been vandelizing," Willie groused.

"People is gonna come if we's a town or village or whatever we is," Jim pondered. "Might as well set things right from the beginning. We'd also be able to get a sherrif 'stead of havin' the county office watch this area an' always be three hours too late." Robert said and nodded at Willie.

"Won't come if we ain't encorporated. Least we got some of the decent folks like Hube here 'cause it ain't a free fer all," Willie said.

"It's a big world out there, you seen some of it in the Army, people come in all types," Jim said. "We's going to have good and bad come through here."

"An' what's gonna pay for all of it? Our property taxes will go up as the county looks ta pay fer it all. We'll have a village government 'stead of governing ourselves and have ta answer to folks who don't care a lick fer the residents but only fer they's position and the new village," Willie said.

"That worked when it was just us families in the valley for sure, but with all these other folks settin' up shop and buildin' houses someon's gotta govern 'em, they might not see it as easy as thet Willie," Robert said as he stroked his chin.

"We shouldna let 'em the first place, present company excluded," Willie nodded to Steven behind him. "Mark me words, we loosin' our valley an it only gonna get worse from here."

"I suppose you'll have to show us, Willie. I haint seen the bad fer it all just yet," Jim said. "If it's just a lil property tax increase to get somethin' in return, that aint too bad."

"We get ta vote on it, so how is you gonna vote?" Willie asked.

"I don't reckon I know," Robert said. "I'll have to hear what they has to say, my minds not made up either way."

"Well, for me I'd like to see something more for taking care of things around here that we don't have," Steven added. "If you can get your water and maybe get someone to come in and establish a utilities COOP or something, it would make life easier for everyone, especially the buisnesses whove come."

"You tol' me I'd seen the world in the army. What I seen of it I didn't like. From the forts here in America in the big cities with all these people only wantin' for they's selves to the slums of Europe an' the evil that masses of people can bring upon they's selves; I don't want that for the valley. We encorporate, we gonna get a mini version of all that. We lived here fer generations without all that stuff an our valley been peacefull. Bring in these other others an that is gonna go as it already has started to go." Willie scoweld and put his empty coffee mug on his knee.

"I suppose it's happening regardless of what we want or don't want, only thing is to mold it as best we can since it seems an inevitability to me," Jim said and drummed his thumbs on his own mug.

"Oh, I kin think of a few ways o' stoppin' it," Willie growled.

"We all could," Robert added, "but who of us will actually do it?"

"I suppose you vote yer mind on it, but I'm not voting fer it. Them bastards what came here pitchin' this whole thing is up to no good fer the valley, an' I won't sit by idly while they ruin more of it." Willie stood and walked to the coffee percolator and filled his mug and stood by the window. There was little of interest to look out at in the snow covered way save for the buisnesses linning the roadway and the cars creeping by in the slush.

"I'll vote my mind for sure lest you convince me of the detriment to the whole valley in voting against encorporation. The chemical plant is going to bring people here regardless of if we a village or a town or not. The folks who've moved an' set up shop like our good friend Steven here did so for thier livelihood jus' as we continue to work the land fer our own livelihood. I don't begrudge any man fer wantin' that, even those two fellers, Pembrook an' Shields. If a village is what the people here now want, why not?" Jim stated.

"Well, we jus' have ta see what it brings at the meetin'," Willie muttered. "Mark my words, them chem plant bastards 'ill be there pitchin' honey an' sunshine for they's own good 'an not anyone elses."

There was silence for a time as the conversation topic ran its natural course of life. Jim finished his coffee and got up to get the things he'd come to purchase. The hardware store was cozy and small and every inch of useable space crammed with shelving and materials. Nails of multiple sizes, pipes and fittings, engine parts, and tools for every need and use where scattered haphazzardly about. High in the cieling where strung a few things that had no home on the walls or on the floor. Being a farming community, the store even had a selection of replacement blades for a combine or tiller. New chain saws and small roto tillers sat in the back corner and Huebner did a brisk buisness in such items when he first opened. Most of the farmers used what they always used for such chores as tree felling or tilling for small jobs by using axes and shovels. Just being near the shiny gass powered tools made thier allure irrestitable. Jim still hadn't succombed, but looked longingly at them nonetheless each time he entered the store.

Gathering his goods Jim paid for a sack full of nails and a new hammer. He had an old hammer that worked just fine, but the new one promised other utilitarian uses along with his old one. What harm could a second hammer bring? Nodding to Willie and Robert on his way out, Jim left the warmth of the shop to the cold of the mid morning air. Looking about briefly at what used to be empty roadside Jim thought of Willie's reluctance to accept the change already wrought upon them and decided he would just have to wait for the meeting to make a judegment. There were already people and faces he had never seen before parked at each place of buisness and the diner was full to capacity. Feeling the rumble in his stomach reminded him of Sally's lunch warning and he climbed up into his truck and started for home.

Lunch was spread out on the table and the children were busey setting it when Jim walked in and stamped the snow off of his shoes. The house smelled of roast beef and gravey and buttered rolls. Setting his hardware package aside, Jim hung up his coat and headed into the kitchen. Thier children, Roy, Charles, and Susan skittered about like mercury on a smooth surface, bouncing from one thing to the next as the table slowly filled with plates and silverware. At twelve, ten and nine respectively they were still balls of fire and energy that took all of Sally's concentration to control. Sally was firing off orders like a ship's captain to her crew and the crew was hopping.

It was a Saturday for the children and they where home all day which meant chores and shooing them off to friends houses to reclaim the peace and quiet a school day would bring. Finding nothing to do, Jim sat down at his chair and waited for the ruckus in the kitchen to migrate to the dinningroom which wasn't long in coming. The perpetual motion of the clan saw only the briefest pause for prayer before all was chaos once again.

"Pa, can I go to the store with Jessie later today?" asked Susan between mouthfulls of roast.

Jim looked up at Sally and she nodded slightly. "Yes, but you'd better not walk, too cold out."

"Naw, Jessie's momma driving in to get some stuff this afternoon."

"Can I go to Charleston with Peter and some others on Tuesday night? Pete's Pa is going up for supplies for the store." Roy the oldest asked sheepishly.

"There's a meeting at the county school that night, so I don't think so this time," Jim replied.

"Owha, what's the meeting about an' why would I haveta go!" Roy whinned.

"Some meeting called by some folks up the road about encorporating into a village or something. You don't have to go to the meeting, but I'd rather you not go that night to Charleston all the same if your mother and I will also be gone. Someone has to stay home with these two," Jim motioned to Susan and Charles. Charles stuck his tongue out at Roy.

"Charley," Sally said with motherly meanace.

"Willie's all up in arms over it, Robert seems in between on the subject. I think it might be a good thing to have a village here," Jim said and scooped a spoonfull of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"What's Willie got against it?" Sally asked.

"You know him, doesn't like change. He thinks it will bring even more people here," Jim replied.

"Would a village have a school or more things to do?" Roy asked.

"Probably, there could be a lot of things it would bring," Jim answered.

"An' more kids to play with?" Charles asked, a brightened expression lighting his face.

"One would assume," Jim replied.

"Might mean not having to go to Charleston as much for stuff we can't buy or order here," Sally said. "Might also bring this whole area together finally. I still haven't met very many of the new people who've moved here."

"Well, if Willie has any influence on it, the farmers will stay away from the folk up the road. He's bent on keeping things at odds I think." Jim said.

"What's he really 'fraid of?" Roy asked.

"Don't rightly know, son. He just has his ways I s'ppose," Jim responded.