The Broken and the Dead

The morning came and we all moved around the house like mice. We were afraid to make any sounds even though we could still hear sporadic gunfire in the distance. We ate breakfast- I guess it was breakfast- Mom cooked us steaks from the freezer and more eggs and toaster waffles. We all forced it down; we knew it was going to go bad if we didn’t. Mom and Elaine were talking in the kitchen while I was playing with Lucy, supposedly trying to keep her mind off of things, but the truth was I needed just as much of that as she did, because even if I wouldn’t admit it, I was a kid too. We just about jumped out of our socks when there was a loud knock at the door. Elaine ran to look out the peep and saw Mr. Caulfield and Mr. and Mrs. Franks on our front porch.

Elaine called out to Mom and she quickly let them in. They were checking for people who might want to go with them; it seemed that Mr. Frank’s family owned a large mountain lodge in West Virginia. They said it was not visible from the highway but was only minutes from it. There were lots of bedrooms and they thought that there was safety in numbers. Mom thought about it only for a moment or two but when she said that we would join them Elaine jumped in the conversation:

“Mom, what about Daddy? How will he know where we are?”

Mr. Franks looked at Elaine and said quickly, “Don’t worry. We’ll leave him a map and directions and the phone number too, in case that starts working! He can join us there.” I wasn’t sure, but I thought that maybe Mr. Franks was just trying to be nice. He knew just like I did that Daddy wasn’t coming home.

Mr. Franks and Mr. Caulfield left to check for anyone else from the homeowner’s association, but Mrs. Franks stayed to give Mom suggestions (no help mind you, but lots of suggestions.) She did write out the address and directions to the Franks’ lodge, which was some help, I suppose. Mom’s van was ready and since we had all our supplies in the other bay it didn’t take long to load it. We did have some problems putting the hard shell car top carrier on but we eventually got it. In that, we loaded everything that we thought we wouldn’t need right away. I have no idea how Dad used to do that all by himself. Lucy arranged all the water containers in the far back of the van along with some “on the road” type snacks. At the last moment I thought to load Dad’s fishing gear and used Velcro straps to attach it to the roof rack next to the carrier. Mom called to Lucy who appeared with her Lil’ Indian bow and arrow set. A bright red artificial feather stuck jauntily in her wavy brown hair.

“Robert Bear and I are ready, Mommy,” she said, looking absolutely dead serious.

I turned and looked at Mom. “Weapons,” I whispered.

She nodded. “Johnny, go get the big knife set from the kitchen.”

I ran inside and took the whole knife set under my arm and then my baseball bag from the pantry where we kept it during little league season. I had two bats in there as well as my glove and a couple of balls. Who knows? Maybe someday we’d want to play baseball, although now I wish I’d picked softball. We all piled into the van and Mom tried the remote but then remembered the power was out, so she had Elaine go and release the door and she slid it easily up. Three cars were waiting for us: the Franks in the lead, the Caulfield’s’ big Jeep next and, I couldn’t believe it, the Driscol’s blue land cruiser was just in front of us! And there was Billy, waving madly to me from the back window. I leaned over the seat and honked Mom’s horn for her, feeling the first bright wave of hope and joy I had all day.

“Johnny!” My mom snapped, “Don’t do that!”

But I could tell she was happy to see Billy too. We pulled out of the garage, paused while Elaine pulled the door down and got into the passenger seat next to Mom. We started down the street to follow the others. We had gone a whole fifty yards before Elaine started in on her cell phone again with no more luck than she had during the previous day. Twenty five more yards and she was asking if we could go by some friend’s house, Krista’s I think. Ten more before the Driscol family’s brake lights came on. Then almost immediately, the sound of tires screeching, a huge crash, and the glass raining down like someone had just dropped a tray of fine crystal.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” Elaine said in a fit of sudden religion. She was rocking in the seat, her eyes unable to focus on anything or anyone, she just kept up her mantra. Ahead of us, I could see that the Franks’ SUV had been totally creamed from the side, a police cruiser, lights on but sirens off, had just nailed them going at least 50 before it bounced off and crashed into the front of the Caulfield’s jeep. I could see Mrs. Driscol getting out of her car and waving to Billy to stay where he was.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Johnny, stay here with your sisters.” Mom answered gruffly and she got out to help as well.

I looked at Elaine: her eyes were wide and she wasn’t even blinking, she just kept typing 9-1-1 and hitting ‘call’ over and over. I have to admit, that freaked me out as much (or more) than the wreck. Mrs. Driscol was helping Mr. Caulfield and Mom ran by them to help the Franks, but when she got by the police cruiser she looked in the window and then down the street and began to scream. Both Mr. and Mrs. Franks were just coming around the front of the police car when Mom started to run back towards us. They looked up and fear was instantly etched on their faces. I looked back up the road where the police car had come from and a crowd of about a dozen or so people were sprinting down the street towards us. I knew instinctively that they were the crazies they talked about on TV. They sure looked like it. Some of them were covered in blood, others not so much, but they all were screaming non-words at us and looked more like animals than people. They were not armed that I could see but they looked so fierce I didn’t think that was going to matter a whole lot. Mr. Franks opened the Driscol’s car and helped Billy get out, Mom was helping Mr. Caulfield.

“Come on Elaine, we gotta get outta here!” I yelled. I started pulling on her shoulder but she wouldn’t respond to me.

“I’m scared, Johnny”, my little sister whispered, clutching Ronald to her chest like a shield. It was the first words she had spoken since the crash. Mr. Caulfield stopped and said something to Mom then started back to the police car. I figured he was going to see if anyone was alive in there. Mr. Franks opened the rear driver’s side door.

“Come on, kids. We’re going to my house for now.” he said. His wife opened the driver’s door and, reaching in, said: “You’re Elaine, right? Come on honey, it’ll be okay.”

Elaine did nothing for a second, then she took Mrs. Franks hand and started scooting over to her. We all kind of got bunched up about the same time, all but Mr. Caulfield, who had succeeded in getting the cop out of his car, he had blood on his head and he was limping something terrible. The officer yelled something at Mr. Caulfield and he reached back into his car for a shotgun that he raised from between the seats. That’s when we saw more of the crazies coming from between the houses, headed straight for us. The path to the Frank’s McMansion was cut off. The shotgun was incredibly loud: one, two, three, four blasts before the cop was tackled by the mob. His shrieks were horrible as they tore him apart. We all gathered up at the rear of our van and I could hear Elaine screaming.

I looked around and it was clear no one had any ideas. Mr. Franks was holding his wife, Mom and Mrs. Driscol held on to Lucy, Billy and me and poor Elaine just kept crying out for us to do something, slowly retreating from our island against the van toward its interior. Mr. Caulfield reached into our van and his hand landed on my baseball bag.

“Is your bat in here, son?” He asked me. I nodded. He looked determined and angry as he unzipped it and withdrew my little league bat.

“Mommy, where is Mrs. Caulfield?” Lucy asked.

“Not now, honey.” Mom whispered.

The first mob was still taking the cop apart, eating what was left of him. But the second mob was just at the curb opposite us: that was when more blasts rang out. It was Old Man Tucker.

He walked down the street. He had two guns, one in each hand. In his left hand he had what looked like something Marshal Dillon would carry in the stupid Gunsmoke reruns my dad liked so much. In his other, he held a more modern looking pistol, black and menacing. He was firing with the black gun really fast but when one of those crazies got too close he would pause, lift the big cowboy gun and blast it off like a cannon. When that thing hit, the crazy would be knocked off his feet. Tucker started yelling at us.

“COME ON, COME ON! MOVE IT! THIS WAY!”

At first no one did anything, but Lucy went first: she just started walking towards the old guy. She didn’t take her eyes off of him and she walked towards him like he had just invited her for a tea party. That got Mom moving. “All right, let’s go!” she yelled, and we all started following Lucy.

When Lucy was behind him, Tucker pointed the black gun at the sky, and did something to it and an empty magazine fell to the ground at his feet. He fired once more with the other gun then produced another magazine and shoved it in the grip. Mom grabbed Lucy and picked her up then we all paused like we just didn’t know which way to go. “My house! Run! Go, go, go!” he yelled, his voice hoarse and rough. He started backing down the street and we all ran ahead of him- all of us, that is, except for Mr. Caulfield, who stayed near Old Man Tucker’s back. I saw my baseball bat waving back and forth in his hands, and I could tell he was more than willing to crack one of those crazies with it, in fact he looked like he wanted it more than anything.

That was when something went wrong with the black gun and Tucker cursed. He fired once more with the cowboy then turned and started after us. Tucker might have been big and mean but he would lose a race with a turtle with a bad leg. The crazies were on him in a flash, when one grabbed his arm he spun around to hit it in the head with the butt of his revolver. A second crazy tackled him and he went down hard. I swear he bounced. That was when Mr. Caulfield reached him, smashed the crazy’s head in with my bat and pulled Tucker out from under the attacker. Mr. Caulfield jogged easily beside Old Man Tucker as he huffed and puffed his way to us.

We went in through the back door and spilled in there like water through a hose, spreading out through the kitchen to make room for those behind us. Finally Mr. Caulfield and Old Man Tucker joined us. Tucker slammed the door shut and turned a deadbolt, then reached up and slid a bolt up into the frame. Then he reached down and did the same thing with one that went into the floor. The door didn’t have a window in it, and the rest of the windows were high up and covered with weird metal mesh. I guess it was decorative, but it reminded me more of the things they put over store windows so crooks can’t get in. I, for one, was happy it was there. We were quiet, and I could hear the mob or what was left of it pounding on the door. Old Man Tucker turned to us and said, “Don’t worry. It’s a steel door, there ain’t enough of them to get through it.”

Lucy was standing near him and chimed in.

“Ain’t is not a word, Mr. Tucker.”

Billy and I looked at each other in horror. Oh my God, what was he going to do to her now? But Tucker just laughed. Quiet and low, more like some kind of a rumble really, but it was a laugh. In the most chivalrous voice he could manage over the banging of the living dead, he said:

“You are right, Miss Lucy. I shall try and remember that.”

How anyone could laugh was beyond me, but he did. We had barely caught our breath when an angry voice made me jump.

“Alright, Tucker. Where did you get those guns?”

Mr. Franks had stepped forward, obviously angry. Tucker turned and stared at him.

“None of your fucking business, Franks.”

“Now listen here, Tucker, just who do you think you are?” Mr. Franks said as he started across the room towards Old Man Tucker. Personally, I thought Mr. Franks was stupid; and I guess Mom agreed, because she stepped in between them.

“What difference does it make? He saved us.”

Mr. Franks looked like he couldn’t believe what my Mom just said. Mr. Franks scoffed, sputtered and cleared his throat before, in a quiet but angry voice, spat,

“Saved us? Saved us? Are you in shock or just stupid? They only came after us when he started shooting those people out there!”

“Oh, that’s bullshit, Bob.” Mr. Caulfield cut in. “We wouldn’t have made it 10 yards if he hadn’t been there.”

Mr. Franks looked like his face was going to explode. “If you think I am going to stay here with some gun-toting psycho, then you have another thing-”

Whatever Mr. Franks was going to say was lost to history, because Old Man Tucker shoved that big cowboy gun right under his chin. His voice rumbled: “Then get out.”

Mr. Franks stammered and tried to respond, but Old Man Tucker pulled the hammer back with what seemed to be a thunderous click.

“I said, get out.” he repeated.

That’s when Mrs. Franks got involved.

“You can’t do that, Tur- um, Mr. Tucker. If you send us out there, you’ll be killing us!” she begged.

“Not my problem, Ms. Franks. You can stay if you want.”

Mr. Tucker held his gun steady, eyes tacked to Mr. Frank’s shiny, sweaty face as Mrs. Franks started to plead again. Judging by his eyes, he looked like he was trying to appeal to Mr. Caulfield. I could see that Old Man Tucker was getting close to losing it- his brows knit together in a single bushy line, his lips had disappeared under his mustache, and I could see his jaw clench beneath his scruffy jaw. At that moment, Lucy tugged on his shirt. Old Man Tucker glanced down at her.

“What is it, Miss Lucy?” he said as he returned his attention to Mr. Franks.

Lucy, I thought was pretty nonchalant for a kid watching an armed confrontation, calmly stated:

“I don’t think you should send him outside just for being a nosey-poker.”

Old Man Tucker laughed again.

“Well, I reckon you’re right about that too, Miss Lucy-” and he pointed the gun at the ceiling and slowly let the hammer down. Lucy added that she was not sure but she didn’t think “reckon” was a word either. Old Man Tucker looked at Mr. Franks, and I saw his mustache barely shift as he spoke.

“Guess you owe your life to the good sense of young Miss Lucy.”

He turned and moved towards his kitchen sink where he pulled the slide back, and a bullet tumbled out. Producing a fresh magazine from his back pocket, he inserted it, chambered a new round then set the black pistol down on the counter. Then he opened the cabinet, and I saw there only one glass, overturned and in the back. He picked it up and filled it from the faucet. In one gulp, he drank it, and turned back to all of us. He gestured across the kitchen and into a dimly-lit room.

“Well, make yourselves at home. The living room is through there, the den is past that.”

Then he pointed on down the hallway and said, “bathroom is at the end of the hall. My bedroom is on the left, an extra one is on the right. We can figure out the sleeping arrangements later, but I have to lay down... my back is killing me. If you want, Mrs. Driscol, there are cans of chili in the cupboard and a big pot under the sink.”

I noticed Mom and Mrs. Driscol look at each other like Tucker had said something stupid, and Mrs. Driscol rolled her eyes the way Elaine usually does when she wanted to make Dad angry. To tell the truth, I really didn’t know what he had said that was so wrong- I thought maybe she didn’t eat chili, although I liked it. With that, Old Man Tucker picked up his pistol. Then, he paused before handing it to Mr. Caulfield.

“Here, keep that handy. She’s loaded, so better put it on safe.”

Mr. Caulfield nodded as he took the gun. Old Man Tucker was just at the hall entryway when he turned back to us again.

“Oh, Caulfield: thanks. For coming back for me, I mean.”

Mr. Caulfield smiled and gave a sort of half-salute to Tucker with three fingers- the kind you might do to tell a friend you understood him, and Tucker seemed to chuckle and disappeared down the hall. He shut the door of the bedroom he said was his behind him. After that, Mr. Caulfield suggested we keep the noise down and we did, barely whispering, and after about an hour of that the mob outside quit banging. Mr. Caulfield looked outside and said they were still around, but looked confused.

“It’s like they know we’re nearby, but have forgotten exactly where.”

Billy was suddenly at my side, and I jumped when he whispered: “Johnny, you gotta see this.”

I followed him into the living room where Lucy had found a TV and was watching “Clifford the Big Red Dog.” At the time the strangeness didn’t occur to me, and we left her to it as I followed Billy into the den. In the back was a fireplace with a couple of big couches covered in a big, ugly flower print. After a second, I realized they were mismatched, and I laughed as I pictured Tucker trawling flea markets to find a matching ugly floral couch for the one he already had, and Billy shushed me. On the left past the couch was a whole bunch of shelves with all sorts of boxes and tools on them and a desk with a swing arm lamp illuminating all sorts of parts from some kind of little machine. Elbowing me in the arm, Billy pointed out the pistol frame- it was a totally disassembled gun. But what had me and Billy really transfixed was the right hand side of the room. All along that wall were glass-front gun cabinets, and they were filled with all sorts of guns. Long guns, handguns, shotguns and rifles were formally arranged and labeled with a little card. Each gun was different and as Billy and I pressed our faces against the glass I recognized the semi-mechanical handwriting that had been on Lucy’s thank-you note.

“Look at this one!” Billy said excitedly, pointing to the first one in the cabinet. I looked over his shoulder as he read “1758 French Charleville Flintlock, 69 caliber,” then, as he pointed to something next to the rifle, added: “Look at the size of that bayonet!”

We were having a blast. Old Man Tucker had a Civil War musket, and something called a 30-40 Krag from the Spanish American War, a bunch of WW I rifles, American and British and French. Four French ones actually, funny-looking things, labeled as one kind of Berthier or Manlicher, but all were noted as 8mm Lebel. He had a huge Swiss rifle with a brass scope that went nearly the entire length of the gun. The card said it was a ‘Vetterli Shutzen, 1881, 10.4 mm’. He had Remingtons and Marlins, lever-action guns and single shots. He had three Russian rifles called Moisan-Nagants. Apparently, each was different, but they looked the same to me. One tag said it had a hex-something and other was from a place called Tula. The third had a scope on it.

And boy, did he have shotguns too. Most, but not all, were double barreled, arranged in size from .410 to 28 to 16 to 12 to 10 gauge. He had pump shotguns, and I thought of the cop that crashed into us. I pushed away from the glass a little bit, and I didn’t feel very well for a reason I couldn’t really describe, but I wished we could have saved him, too. I guess Billy didn’t notice, or maybe he did, because he said “Johnny, look at that big army gun!” and in a few moments I was back at the glass, looking at something that looked like an M-16.

In the last two cabinets were handguns: pistols and (I found out from the labels) that the cowboy guns were revolvers. Apparently, Old Man Tucker loved Colts. Most of what he had were Colts, four them that were labeled COLT DA 41, and there were extra cards by them. One said something about Jesse James, who I had heard of, and the other about John Westley Hardin, who I had not. A bunch of the colts looked very old fashioned and from tags I learned they were all black powder with 1847, 1856 and 1861 dates. There were two guns missing from that cabinet, one spot had a tag that said “Ruger Super Blackhawk, 44 Magnum” and the other one said “Colt 1911, 45 ACP caliber.” He also had a Ruger SR45 that also said 45 ACP. He had other pistols; the littlest one said 25 Auto, then 380 auto then 9mm, then 40 S&W and finally 45 ACP. Those looked about the same to me, just differently sized.

Just below where the Super Blackhawk should have been was a nearly identical one labeled “Ruger Blackhawk, 357 Magnum.” Billy said his favorite was a very shiny silver colored revolver that, according to the label, was a “Mitchel Arms S.A. 44 Magnum.” He had a bunch of revolvers that were various makes of ’top-breaks’ all of which were from around 1900, 32 and 38 caliber mostly but one was 45 long colt. This was the only case that was unlocked, and when we tried the drawers at the bottom we found they were filled with boxes and boxes of bullets. Apparently if he had a gun, then he had at least a few bullets for it. All together, we figured he had over a hundred guns, but the cards said that most of what he had dated from the First World War or before.

“Come on, we gotta tell Mom about this!” I said, and we headed back through the living room towards the kitchen.

As we went through the living room, Lucy was holding Ronald Bear and was quietly watching another Clifford. I figured Old Man Tucker had a DVD of them or something. Everyone else was sitting at the kitchen table, talking quietly, but I could tell that they were not all getting along about something. I stood there a second, waiting to get Mom’s attention. Finally she looked at me and asked, “Johnny, where is Lucy?”

I pointed back the way we came and said she was watching TV in the living room. Then I asked if I could talk to her for a second. She said that they had a lot to talk about, and could it wait? I said that I didn’t think so and that it was important. She finally agreed and Billy and Mom and I went into the living room with Lucy, Billy’s mom coming along too at the last moment.

“OK, Johnny. What is it?” she asked, running her fingers through her brown hair and looking very tired.

Before I could answer Billy burst out: “Old Man Tucker is a GUN NUT!”

He was so excited, he was practically jumping up and down and we had to show Mom and Mrs. Driscol. They wandered around in there gawking just like me and Billy had, Mrs. Driscol said that some of these must be worth a lot of money and all together a small fortune, she then said

“Well, I just don’t understand why one old man should need so many guns.”

“He doesn’t need them Amy, he obviously collects them and I for one am pretty damn happy he does.” Mom said quietly to her best friend.

After that they pulled the door shut and said that we were not to go in there again or let anyone in there either, especially not Lucy. I guess I looked disappointed but Mrs. Driscol said we could be the “Guards of the Armory” and that was pretty cool so Billy and me said we would do it. Billy found an old newspaper and we folded special army hats for us to wear. I think they look like old sailor hats but it was the only one Billy knew how to fold. We marched back and forth in front of the door for a while and then just sat down in front of it and talked for a bit, halfway watching Clifford with Lucy. I have to admit, sometimes that show made Billy and me laugh.

I don’t know how long we were there, a Clifford and a half I guess when Mr. Franks came storming in with everyone else behind him. They were all talking at the same time. I guessed that Mrs. Driscol must have told the others about all of Old Man Tuckers guns. Billy stood up and said

“HALT, who goes there?”

Mr. Franks just grabbed him by one arm and threw him across the room, I pushed forward into Franks’ stomach, I guess I surprised him because it did make him step back a little. I could hear Mrs. Driscol yelling about Mr. Franks attacking her son. Everyone was talking all at the same time. Suddenly a loud whistle got everyone’s attention, we turned back towards the kitchen and there was Old Man Tucker standing there in jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt.

“Now just what is going on?” he asked.

We all just looked at him but before anyone could answer he turned to Lucy.

“Miss Lucy? Do you know?” She didn’t take her eyes off of the TV but she did answer;

“Uh huh, Billy and Johnny were Almond Guards, and Mr. Franks wanted to go in and they didn’t let him.”

Old Man Tucker turned back and looked at us and Billy said

“Armory not Almond”, he looked a little ticked about that.

“Right” was all Old Man Tucker said, it was clear he was thinking about something.

Mr. Franks pushed his way through everyone towards Old Man Tucker,

Mr. Franks threatened, “If you have HALF the firearms in that room that they say you have I am going to have you arrested.”

Old Man Tucker said nothing he just crossed his arms over his chest, for the first time I saw just how, well, hairy Old Man Tucker was, there was so much on his arms it looked like it was laying in layers, and some of it was long enough to actually have a curl. But as hairy as he was it didn’t hide an old, faded tattoo on one arm. I couldn’t read it but I thought it looked military.

“As home owners association president I DEMAND that you turn over all firearms in your possession to us immediately!”

Now I was only 12 years old at the time, but even I knew Mr. Franks had made a big mistake, Mom and Mrs. Driscol started saying something about private property and Mr. Caulfield just rolled his eyes. Mrs. Franks touched her husband’s shoulder and asked him to calm down. But Mr. Franks was going to have none of it, he stepped forward again towards Old Man Tucker and poked a finger towards Old Man Tucker. For the second time whatever he was going to say was lost when Old Man Tucker reached up with his opposite hand and grabbed Mr. Franks wrist, he pulled Mr. Franks towards him hard, almost spinning him 180 degrees to face us. Old Man Tucker put his other arm under Mr. Franks arm pit pinching it between forearm and biceps, now Mr. Frank’s right arm was stretched across Old Man Tucker’s chest. I can see it almost in slow motion; Old Man Tucker slowly turned and leaned into Mr. Franks who went down like a ton of bricks. Mr. Franks was on his stomach, his right arm stretched out behind him, and Old Man Tucker’s considerable weight pressing that one shoulder to the ground. I didn’t think a man that, um, heavy could move that smoothly or that fast but he did. Billy looked at me and said “Wow.” and I could hear Mrs. Franks asking for her husband to be let go. Old Man Tucker didn’t say anything yet but he shoved Mr. Franks down flat once more then stood up. He put his foot on Mr. Franks hand and pressed down on it. I winched because I knew that had to hurt and Mr. Franks yelped in pain. I had the feeling that if he wanted to Old Man Tucker could break every bone in that hand. Old Man Tucker held up one hand to get everyone’s attention for a moment and when Mr. Franks quieted he said,

“I am going to tell you this only once Franks, I am not in your ‘ass-o-see-ation’ and even if I was I wouldn’t answer to you. I have a license for those guns and that is all you need to know. You are in my house, my house, my rules. Do you understand?”

Mr. Franks hesitated and Old Man Tucker leaned forward just a little and Mr. Franks barked

“Yes, yes I understand!” Old Man Tucker looked over to Lucy, still on the couch watching the ending of another Clifford.

“What do you say Miss Lucy?”

Lucy sat there for a Moment then in a long drawn out manner as good as any umpire she said

“Steeerike TWO!”

Old Man Tucker laughed again. “Franks, that little girl is your best friend, don’t go for three.” and he removed his foot from Mr. Franks’ hand.

“Guards, please allow access to the armory.” Old Man Tucker said to Billy and Me.

“Yes, Sir” I said in reply and started to open the door. Old Man Tucker smiled and said

“Don’t call me sir, I work for a living.” Just then Lucy on the couch turned towards us and asked

“Mr. Tucker do you have any more cartoons?” He replied and pointing to a door in the TV stand he said

“Right in there Miss Lucy.”

Mom looked confused for a minute then said

“Cartoons? You have power? How come you have power Mr. Tucker?”

As he entered the den, he said over his shoulder,

“Solar panels mam.”

“Of course” Mom said a strange smile on her face.

I wondered why she said that, how could she have predicted that he would be solar powered? I guess I just had missed something. Lucy had found another DVD and was just settling back onto the couch while the rest of us followed Old Man Tucker into the ‘arsenal’.

He showed us the work table with his press and other reloading tools. He showed us that he had a melter and could make bullets but brass was another story. He started rearranging some of the guns putting all the ones he thought we might use in the first case. The others he said were just relics or he didn’t have enough ammunition for them to be much use. When he was done he said

“Alright, in this cabinet I have a number of handguns, two SKS rifles, two semi-auto shotguns, an AR-180 and a 30-06. I also have two replicas in 22 long rifle, a GSG 522 and a STG 44.”

He turned to Mom and Mrs. Driscol

“They would be perfect for the boys.”

Mom hesitated but Mrs. Driscol put a hand on Mom’s arm.

“Sharon, they need to know how to defend themselves.”

Mom looked at her and they shared a silent sadness.

“Alright Mr. Tucker, will you give everyone a lesson on how to use the weapon you give them?”

Old Man Tucker’s voice was quiet and kind; it surprised me how much so,

“Of Course Mrs. Williams.” and he smiled softly.

Things were quiet while Old Man Tucker showed me and Billy how to use those rifles. He showed us how to load them, unload them. How to never point them at anyone unless you were willing to kill them, we stared at each other for a moment while that sunk in.

“But you pointed a gun at Mr. Franks” Billy said.

“That’s right Billy, I did.” and his face was like stone.

He drew pictures for us and talked about sight alignment and sight picture. We practiced over and over again. Then he showed us how to clean those rifles. We both learned on both rifles. When he finished he said,

“Tomorrow we will try to practice a little, if it’s safe of course.” Then he said, “I got something else for you two.”

He rose and went to the handgun cabinet.

“These two revolvers use the same bullets as your rifles, they are quite a bit simpler to use as well.”

He held one out to each of us, they were just like the big revolver that he carried, just a bit smaller. He opened one of the base cabinets and produced two matching holsters and a big plastic bucket that said ‘Remington, 22 Long Rifle, 36 grain hollow point’ on the side. He had two extra magazines for the 522 and one extra for the STG. He said

“Fill them up boys, and load the revolvers too. Then put the holsters on your belts and I want you to wear them all the time. Never be out of reach of these guns.” Then he paused “And I want you to look out for each other. I want you to take the 6 for each other, which means I want you to watch each others back.”

We nodded and promised that we would. He smiled,

“I am giving these to you, they are yours, and never let them out of your sight. Never give them up to anyone, okay?”

We quickly agreed and promised, and I wondered why we had been so afraid of Old Man Tucker.

Mrs. Driscol came and got us, she had made the chili she seemed in a good mood until she saw us with our rifles slung over our shoulders and revolvers on our hips. I could see that she had something to say but she kept it to herself for now. My Mom was waiting behind as Mrs. Driscol led us to the kitchen.

“Mr. Tucker, a word please” she said, not really a question but more of a royal suggestion.

“Of course Mrs. Williams.”

She hesitated but not like she was intimidated more like she didn’t want to forget something. When she spoke her voice was steady and strong,

“First Mr. Tucker I want you to know that Mrs. Driscol and I are both grateful to you and we realize what would have happened if you had not come out for us.”

He cut her off and said she was welcome and started into the kitchen but stopped when she put a hand on his arm and said

“But...”

He stopped and waited.

“While we appreciate that you asked before arming and taking the time to teach Johnny and Billy, we were wondering why you did not arm the rest of us?”

He blinked at her in shock.

“I really do not intend to arm the Franks but Caulfield, of course...”

This time Mom was the one who interrupted him,

“No, I meant Amy Driscol, Elaine and I. Do you realize that you armed two twelve year old boys before even considering two adult women? That has to be one of the dumbest, most misogynistic things I have ever seen. Were you trying to be condescending or were you just being stupid?””

She watched him, she nearly laughed in his face as he wore the expression of someone whose rusty wheels had just started to grind and move once more. Mom crossed her arms and patiently waited.

His brows knit together, she didn’t know if he was going to scream at her or what, but she didn’t care, he was being an idiot and he needed to know it. After a full 60 seconds he nodded,

“You are right Mrs. Williams. And if it’s okay I will correct that in the morning.”

He paused then added

“I want you to know I don’t think of women as secondary, inferior or incapable in any way. I knew female Marines and was proud to be by their side. I have no excuse or even an explanation for why I over looked you in favor of the boys. I can’t even promise I won’t do it again, but I can promise two things, if I do it again it won’t be on purpose and second I won’t take it personally when you correct me.”

He looked uncomfortably at the ground, then finished

“I hope that’s good enough of an apology.”

Mom stared at him then just as a hint of a smile reached the corner of her mouth

“Well, it could have been worse, thank you, and correct you I will. Now, how about you and me get some food.”

She took his arm by the elbow and let him out of the armory.

The living room was empty and the TV was off, it was getting dark outside but there were no lights in there. He followed Mom into the kitchen. Everyone else was there but we hadn’t waited. I was starving and I guess we all were. Old Man Tucker took a bite from the bowl Mom had offered him.

“Ahh..Chili, my favorite vegetable.” ’

This made Lucy laugh but Mom just rolled her eyes. He then walked over to the fridge and took what must have been a five pound bag of ’Shredded Mexican Blend Cheese Product’ and poured some on his dinner then passed it around. It was good, of course I thought Mrs. Driscol was probably the 2nd best cook in the world behind my Mom. We ate until there was no more left, but several times Mom had to get Elaine to eat, she kept staring off into space.

After dinner, me, Billy, Lucy and Elaine went into the living room, Old Man Tucker put on a DVD of what he called his second favorite movie, ‘Galaxy Quest’ with Tim Allen. The adults gathered around the table in the kitchen and while they were trying to be quiet, we could hear quite a bit of disagreement. Mr. Franks kept calling for votes. Old Man Tucker cursed using some very bad words that there was no way he would let votes determine his future. Mr. Franks wanted the keys to the guns, he wanted to know how much food Old Man Tucker had, and Old Man Tucker said that Mr. Franks wanted to be elected Queen! Even Elaine choked back a laugh when she heard that. She had been listening in just like me and Billy. They argued a long time and when Old Man Tucker pointed to the door one too many times, Mom took charge and said that like it or not we needed each other and we were going to have to get along.

As it got late Mr. Franks volunteered to sleep in the living room with his wife. It was decided that we would share the big bedroom with Mrs. Driscol and Billy. Mr. Caulfield and Old Man Tucker would trade using the bed in the guest room. Old Man Tucker said he would keep a watch until 2 AM, and then he would wake Mr. Caulfield to take over until breakfast. Mom and Mrs. Driscol slept on the outside of Old Man Tucker’s king size bed. Elaine slept with her head at the other end, me, Billy and Lucy just found a warm spot in between. It had been a traumatic few days, my dad and Billy’s were unaccounted for. I finally figured out that poor Mr. Caulfield’s wife had died in the car accident and there were the crazies, the shootings and the fear. The constant, never ending fear that assailed us all, made us feel weak and unable to move, unable to respond to anything. But still we lived and we all slept like those who just didn’t have much left to keep them awake. It was Elaine who must have gotten up for the bathroom or something. I remember her shaking Mom awake saying

“Mom, come quick, something is wrong with Mr. Caulfield.”

Mom hurried out of bed and was immediately followed by Mrs. Driscol and the rest of us. In the kitchen, leaning against the refrigerator was Mr. Caulfield and he had a huge knot on the side of head. Old Man Tucker had gotten up and joined us. The Franks were gone.