The Beginning Of The End…(The Blue Haze)

10:45am 12/31/2002

A blue haze still hung heavy in the air. The dim lit room smelled of stale beer. In the corner of the room a jukebox blinked and winked to now silent unheard tunes. Jimmy leaned heavy on the old wooden bar that had been scarred by numerous cigarette burns and nursed on the remainder of the now warm beer. He remembered his glorious past, a time when he stood tall, a time when people showed him respect, and no one loathed his very presence. In the far corners of his mind, hidden in a place that remained untouched by the nightmares, untouched by the toxic effects of alcohol and old age, he recalled the year 1942.   

He had just turned 21, and had graduated the top of his class and now commanded the title, Captain James C. Watson. Soon he would be shipping out for England, once there he would assume command of a glider division whose sole purpose was a strategy called reconnaissance. The plan was simple and the men stood tall against great odds. To accomplish the feat, the small engineless glider would be in tow behind a larger engine driven plane and when the correct altitude had been achieved, the towline would be released. The glider, which is silent, would then drift quietly over enemy lines. The pilot would take photos of enemy positions, record troop movement and then radio what he had observed back to command. The mortality rate for this duty was extremely high, and many pilots that pulled this rotation never returned home again. However, it was the courage of these brave men with their infusion of information that helped win many battles.

On January the 23rd 1943, this almost became the fate of Captain Watson.  While doing his rotation on recon, the whole of his tail section was destroyed by enemy gunfire sending his glider into a spin and hurtling to the ground. Jimmy braced himself for impact and what he knew would be sure death. The crumpling wood and wire of the small plane made little noise as the forward canopy collapsed delivering its crushing silence. Jimmy now lay motionless on the cold snow covered ground as a forward unit of the German army came and took him away.  He could hear a voice off in the distance, but he couldn't make out what the voice was saying. Painfully, he began opening his eyes only to see the blurred image of someone standing over him yelling something. He was speaking English. No, he was yelling and cursing in English, but that was all Captain Watson could make out.

“Jimmy, you old drunk, wake up and haul yourself out of here before I call the cops”, shouted Bob. “I’ve had it with you, he continued, everyday from opening to closing, you come in here and drink yourself into a stupor, then you start all that crazy talk about 1943 , I am tired of it, now off with you”.

Jimmy slowly got to his feet and made his way to the door.   When he opened the door, the bright light of the afternoon spilled across the floor of the "Big Ballers Night Club" and washed over Bob illuminating him. Jimmy looked back at Bob and chuckled a little to himself, for he thought that with the way the light was hitting Bob that he looked like a big ugly angel. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, Jimmy looked across the street in the direction of the nearly deserted air base, Bob was right, thought Jimmy, he knew he had to leave the past in the past where it belonged and he would if he only could. Besides, no one would understand, heck he had too many problems for any one to understand. There were just too many demons to do battle with. Shaking that thought now from his mind, he made his way East down Sumter Street to the "Red Dot" to pick up a pint  of forgetfulness.

6:00pm 12/31/2002

"Hey Jack, come on in", shouted Bob.

"What will it be for you?"                                       

 "Well, How about a bourbon and a case of antibiotics?" asked Jack."

Antibiotics?"QueriedBob.                                                                                  

"Yeah, you mean that you didn't hear the Presidents speech”? He said that confidential sources had indicated numerous terrorist groups had infiltrated the whole of the country and we could expect an attack of some sort anytime or any day."                                                                                                                       

"You're kidding?" responded Bob.  "Did he say what it was that they were planning on attacking?"                                                                                                                   

Jack thought for a moment and began to rattle off to Bob what the President had said. After he had finished, Bob offered up a little advice of his own.                                                                                   

"You just let one of them show up here in Sumter and we will give them a taste of their own medicine and…..                                                                                        

Jack interrupted Bob, "I don't think you quite understand Bob, You wont even see them, they wont come marching over the hill, why, the President said it would possibly come in the form of some sort of biological weapon, or even a chemical device. Did you know that there are some chemical gasses that you can’t even smell or taste?   All they have to do is release it into the air and we just start dropping like flies.   Never know what hit us."                                                                               

 Well, I guess we just sit here and lead normal lives and wait for the big one to hit," retorted Bob angrily.                                                                                                      

"Guess so", said Jack, as he downed his drink.                                              

"I don't know so much about that though, now that I am thinking about it", said Bob. “I’ve been keeping up pretty good with what's going on with the war and all".                                                         

 Silently, he thought to himself, I have to, cause that air base across the street is what keeps this dump I own up and running, and without the flyboys, well, the "Big Baller Nightclub” would cease to be. Aloud, he continued his conversation with Jack.  “Any way, I've been watching the progress of this war and from where I sit, this looks like a win for our side, and if we win, it's over, right?"                                                    

"Well, I guess it would be", replied Jack. "That is if we were fighting a conventional war like WWII, but they ain't nothing conventional about this, I mean, these guys are already here and we don't even know who they are. What are you going to do? Lock up everyone that doesn't fit our idea of an American?"                                      

"Hmmm, that would at least be a start", said Bob. "Hey, how about another drink Jack? This one is on the house".                                                                              

"Nah, I better not, Leah is at home waiting on me .She said she wanted me to take her to some gallery showing tonight and I said I would. Well, you take care Bob, and maybe I will see you tomorrow."                                                                                      

"Maybe? What do you mean by Maybe?" shouted Bob as Jack pulled at the door to leave.                                                                                                                         

"Just what I said, maybe……"

9:37pm 12/31/2002

Cold sweat poured off of Jimmy as he awoke to the pungent smell of rotten fruit that stung the air of the tiny apartment that he called home. The dreams, thought Jimmy.  Those awful dreams that continued to steal from him any hope of peace of mind. It was always the same thing, over and over. He was Captain James C. Watson; serial number 251741017 and then the butt of the rifle would come down across his back,

"What was your mission?" said the tall slender German.

This would go on for hours, until exhausted, but not broken, they would drag him back to the tiny holding cell, where he would be tossed in like a sack of potatoes. Once inside, he would survey the surroundings, searching for a breach, a flaw, anything that allow him to escape his captors, but instead, he would see the same solid stone wall, with wire between the mortises and two inch bars over the window. How long had he been here he thought, why didn't he just die in the crash?  This was Jimmy's dream/nightmare; this was his demon from which he sought escape. No matter the amount of drink, no matter the expanse of time, the demon remained. Rising slowly from the couch, Jimmy made his way to the icebox, as he opened the door, the aroma of spoiled food sent a wave of nausea coursing over him, with his head pounding and his throat as dry as the recent weather, he pulled out a half eaten sub and a beer. It made him sick to even think of food, but he knew he had to get something down. He reached over into the drawer and pulled out a knife and walked to the kitchen table and sat down.

The dreams were coming more frequently now thought Jimmy, and beginning to become more of his life than his reality was. They were changing too; he could sometimes hear others, not Krauts, but Americans and British. Pushing the dream aside, Jimmy began to eat and as he did, a strange thing happened, or was beginning to happen. He was now back in the cold dark cell of 1943 and the voices grew louder as they approached. Yes thought Jimmy, they were Americans and he could hear them coming. Setting the beer down on the table, Jimmy took the knife up and made a cut across his hand that sent a wave of pain shooting strait up his arm. What was going on he wondered. The dreams always took place while he slept…never while wide awake. He thought that he must be going crazy and that all the years of alcohol abuse had finally taken its toll, but it was so real…almost.  He began to weep as a small trickle of blood ran from the palm of his hand onto the kitchen table. The room started to spin and Jimmy fell to the floor in a small untidy heap as a red sky burned in his mind and the town that he called home, melted before his very eyes and all that he had known was now gone.

11:28pm 12/31/2002

A soft cool wind blew down the almost deserted street, and the no crossing sign hummed loudly with its big red hand flashing as if it were keeping time to some silent tune. Jack and Leah had just walked out of the coffee shop, when Leah tugged at Jacks sleeve and motioned in the direction of the air base. "You see that?” she whispered?                                                                                                            

“Yeah”, said Jack, trying not to seem too concerned.                                             

“What is it?” asked his wife.            

 " I don't know, replied Jack, but it will be all right." He had said that, not only in hopes of calming his wife, but also trying to assure himself as well. Off in the distance in the direction of the base, some ten miles away, the horizon gave off blood red hues. Motioning Leah in the direction of  their car, Jack and Leah walked down the sidewalk to where they had parked, a silent fear began to creep up on Jack as he looked at the red horizon grow larger until it filled the whole of his rearview mirror. The soft wail of distant sirens could now be heard as Leah began to cry.

 "Jack, she asked, what's going on?"                                                                                       

Jack slipped his arm over her shoulders and spoke softly," I don't know baby, but don't worry, I am right here and I won’t let anything happen to you. I love you and old Jack will take care of his baby". Leah smiled as Jack thought inwardly, Dear God, help us all.               

12:01am 1/01/1945

 “ Captain, hey Captain Sir, can you hear me?  Hey Captain!”                               

Jimmy opened his eyes to see an orderly standing by his side; he was short stocky looking fellow with wire rim glasses that hung at an angle on his face. The room surrounding him was painted all in white and had a clean, sterile smell to it.     

“Where am I”, mouthed Jimmy, speaking in the direction of the orderly.                

  “Oh sir, good show old chap, you are with us. You sir are a guest of the King. You   are at St. Mary's Hospital. The lads brought you in about three weeks ago, Welcome back sir; I will go alert the colonel that you are awake. He wants to talk with you.  Stay right there and he will be right in”.                                                                  

Jimmy struggled to gather what the orderly had just said, “St. Mary's? Guest of the King?” Confusion on top of his confusion began to take hold, when a tall broad shouldered man entered the room.                                                                                                                         

“Good morning Captain, I'm Colonel Jackson, it's good to have you with us again. Do you know where you are?” the Colonel asked.                                                           

Jimmy nodded                                                                                                  

“Good”, said the Colonel. “Now maybe you can tell me a little about some of the things you encountered or saw while you were being held prisoner and I'm very interested in knowing what you meant by "Bioterrorisim" also the terminology of "dirty bomb”. Are these some sort of codes for some last ditch attempt by the Germans to stop our advance into Berlin?”                                                

 ‘What year is it?” asked Jimmy.                                                                                

“Err, its 1945”, replied the Colonel. “Why?”                                                                                                                 

“Nothing” said Jimmy. “Nothing at all, and if I were to tell you, you wouldn't believe me anyway”. Jimmy closed his eyes and the red horizon of 2003 came back into his minds eye and he softly wept.

12:01am  1/01/2003

Jack swung the car around and headed toward Sumter and into the direction of the ever-increasing red glow that now lit up the night sky. Leah continued to cry softly as Jack drove on. The air had gotten increasingly warmer, the closer to town they got. They passed no one coming out of town and Jack started having second thoughts about going in himself, but that was there home and home is where the heart is. Ahead on the right was Pastor Brown's church and Jack noticed a small group of people entering the church. He swung the car hard into the drive and pulled into the parking lot. He told Leah to remain in the car while he checked everything out. Walking up the steps he noticed Joe behind one of the columns all curled up in a ball and weeping aloud. “Joe, hey Joe, It's me, Jack, what's going on?

”Gone, it's all gone" wept Joe.

What's all gone, said Jack…what?

“The whole town is what replied Joe, haven't you been listening to the radio?” Every base in the country has been hit, they had nukes Jack…. homemade nukes and the president said to expect the chemical and biological attacks as well. It's over Jack…. It’s all over. May God grant us his mercy?

Jack dropped his head and walked slowly to the car, opened the door and got in. He looked at Leah and put his arms around his wife and cried.

12:02am 1/01/2003

The beginning of the end…

Copyrighted April 2002

J. Allen Wilson