Makarovia! Yes, I Know Where That is! Sophomore Year - 92. A New Skoal?

Don't worry, Daniel.  I'm not even near "being done."  Not to be needlessly morbid, but (and no time soon) I want to be found here, doing what I love.  

A New Skoal?

I have a good imagination. Remember? I couldn’t imagine anyone Makarovian who would be upset. There were many disappointments at first hearing Olek had married, and more than a few broken hearts. He wasn’t Prince Charming, he was King Fantastic! He kissed Helga and turned to us.

“What’s the saying?” Olek asked. “The cat’s out of the bag?”

Grandma smiled, “That’s one. But you mentioned a question and answer session.” She shrugged, “Why not do it now? They are all here.”

Olek’s head wavered a little, “Because they’re a bunch of vultures!” He nodded, “Yes. That’s their job, getting the story.” He raised a finger up and did circular motion, “They’re like circling vultures flying over a dying animal, ready to swoop in.”

Helga smiled, squeezing Olek’s hand, “With people all asking similar questions, we thought it best to do it interview style again. Like the family did before your wedding, Peter.”

Peter nodded folding his arms across his chest, “We certainly understand that.”

“I sort of saw the paparazzi as wolves,” I shrugged. “You’ve seen those nature shows that show them as a pack chasing a loan doe or something like it...who isn’t dead yet, but running for their lives.”

Olek grunted with a quick nod, “We aren’t dead and we’re not going to be.” He smiled, “Just as I did with every Prime Minister, President or whatever...the reporter may record the interview, but will know. So am I. There will be no miscommunication by anyone.”

“Okay,” Peter nodded.

Once again, with Stepan and Visel in the backseat, I drove to Skoal.

“You know,” Peter said a little cautiously, but with a smile, “We could have done this as a conference call on the computer.”

I glanced at Peter, “That’s not as friendly as going to see them! You like David and Ed.” My eyebrows waggled, “And I get to drive!”

The speed I was going, I knew would be illegal almost anywhere else. We were on the stretch of road where there weren’t many private homes, but there were some farms. I did watch to see if any livestock were loose or on the road. As with many countries in Europe, the streets were maybe a lane and a half. Wagons and horses didn’t require that much width. The road was a trail during the harsh winter and it was always being repaired when the snow and ice melted. The road was used more than most because of the connection between Skoal and Stryia. I had driven the road before and while familiar, I needed to be careful. The one constant here were the hills. To have a road, you needed to make it smooth and as level as it can be. That meant there were a lot of curves. Nothing speaks to the Y chromosome like a curving road and speed. It defines what guys are. My Cobra was a muscle car and it performed at the high level it was supposed to. There was a stampede of horses under the hood and the torque...we hardly felt the curves that much. I wasn’t that reckless. It just reached a very primitive part of me that grunted in satisfaction. I will say that every male on the planet can reach their primitive side. That fact will be confirmed if we all do it. Let’s all grunt. One, two, and three, “Ugh!” There you go! Reaching our inner cavemen isn’t hard, he’s just below the surface.

Skoal. A year had gone and I remembered those rows of white residential units. There were still some, but there were also houses. Duplexes. I couldn’t see a single one-family home. If you’ve been in the military or visited someone who was, knows military housing wasn’t built to be pretty. It was functional. Servicemen and servicewomen who brought their families lived here. The smallest duplex was the two family kind, but others four or five townhouses attached to each other. I did slow down here. It was summer and the children were not in school. There was the sound, like in Stryia’s circular park, kids were having fun! Again, no language could be detected. High pitched squeals and many voices blended and became that familiar drone everyone knows. I heard someone use a whistle and saw a man with a navy colored cap, light blue shirt and navy shorts in an enclosed fenced area point and shout something at someone w ob tossed a basketball to the man. The instructor or coach saw an error about something. Not all sports from the United States were forbidden.

“I wonder where the lads and lasses play Cricket,” Peter said as we passed by them.

I shrugged with a grin, “In a minute or two you can ask Ed!”

Last year Peter had voiced concern about the changing of a quaint, European village into a bustling metropolis. They had attempted to maintain the look as all houses looked like they were covered by stone. One was being completed where I saw the studs (not the men) were not wood, but metal. Why kill a tree to build your house? The rows of houses looked regimental, just as the military that they housed. Everything was like that in the military. Charleston had a lot military and I could almost hear the drumline! I told you. I have a good imagination.

“Are they spraying on the siding!?” Stepan asked.

I looked at his eyes in the rearview mirror and looked where was pointing. A figure of a person who held a hose a softball could go. From something this dark gray...foam spewed out on the side and stuck there. It obviously dried quickly as two more were using wide, flat trowels to smooth out what had been sprayed. “Yep,” I said. “I don’t know what kind of siding. It could be liquid vinyl.” Glancing again I nodded, “They’ve done it the United States swearing it is lighter adds a layer of insolation. In this climate, I’m sure it would have to.”

The style of architecture was not European. It wasn’t Western either as in the United States, Canada, or Great Britain. They all had the steep red rooves to prevent snow and ice from it from collapsing under the growing weight. The modern world was entering the lives of Makarovians.

“What is THAT!??” Vesil gaped as we passed an enormous building wide enough to park a couple of those big planes on. It wasn’t tall enough. There was a huge sign on the side that said, “Commissary and Exchange.”

I chuckled, “A parent has to get their child’s peanut butter or batteries. Groceries and things like a television or stereo. A new shirt or athletic shoes. One-stop shopping right there!”

There were almost no cars in the parking lot. Yes, a parking lot. Almost no one walked in and out. It was open, but few customers.

I mentally kicked myself as my more aware side reminded me, “We get to see what they’ve carved out underground. I wonder how the mother of three or more gets their groceries home without a car.”

It had been a year since we’d been here at the headquarters and even that was covered with Great Britain’s Flag and the American Flag. They were our biggest allies. They even had a lobby now! They moved quickly in the military. I’m not criticizing the decor...well, yes I am. The floor of the lobby looked like marble and felt solid under my feet, but I knew it couldn’t be. It was decorated in military drab. It was very clean and the floor shined.

“You American’s ARE British! “ Peter said pointing at the two emblems on the wall. “You both have eagles.”

“For the most part, in the beginning, but not so much anymore,” I said. “Even the tune for our national anthems is the same.” God Save The Queen and My Country tis of Thee is the same song. (If you didn’t know that already.)

A young woman in a Royal Air Force uniform was sitting at a desk between two circular steps that started behind her and rose to a second floor where they joined again. The function was more important than being fancy. That was kind of pretty. At least it was light whitish with those dark wavy lines in it. The base in Charleston had the little black dots that looked like insects to me. And the military green-gray! I know they wanted to make everything similar as they did with the people that served in the military. That is the reason for the uniforms and haircuts. No individuality.

The young lady looked up as we came toward her. She stood and bowed. “Your Highness,” she greeted with a smile and waved to her right. “General Hammond is expecting you.”

“He is!?” Peter asked her and then looked at me.

“He is,” I answered reaching the bottom step. “The General is a busy man. I sent him a message by email.”

There was a set of double doors with both their Generals’ names on it.

Opening the door, this was a little better. It was carpeted in a dark Air Force blue. Again, both military forces used blue. The Royal Air Force was a darker blue, but I couldn't tell you what sort of color. There were three desks. Two toward the back wall and window, and one at the door as we came in. It was spacious. At the front desk was a male Senior Airman from the United States. (A three striper, but not a noncommissioned officer yet?) He was close to Peter’s and my age.

The Airman looked up and instantly jumped to his feet and seemed not to know what to do. At first, a salute and then he bowed. “Your Highness!”

I had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing. He was so flustered, it was hilarious. Name badges were part of the uniform, “At ease, Airman Suggs. Normally, we don’t bite.” I waved at Peter and looked at Stepan and Visel. “Do either of you?”

Stepan smirked. “Not until I get to know them well enough,” Stepan said in accented English.

“And there you go,” I said in a ”see there“ kind of way with a short nod.

“Eric!” Ed greeted, “and Peter!” He came from behind his desk. “It’s good to see you!”

General Hammond was still the perfect example of British Aristocracy with the accent and manners. The salt and pepper hair had more salt now, but he was a handsome man. He was a grandfather, for Pete’s sake! Last year he showed that wasn’t all he was. There were terrorists, from England that were Muslim who wanted to force us NOT to marry. He knocked one out with a single punch and broke that terrorist’s nose! Remember? He was trim and well-groomed. His upper left part of his uniform held many ribbons of campaigns and accomplishments. He stuck his hand out to shake.

“I prefer hugs, but we’ll let this one go as you have an audience,” I thumbed at Airman Suggs, who was still ridged. “At ease.” I thought of something and this being a small world, it made sense. “Where does your family come from?” I hurried on, “I knew two families in Asheville, the Clubs, and the Suggs.” Then I chuckled, “Well actually they were one the family married into the other.”

The Airman did relax a little, “Sylva, North Carolina.”

I nodded with a grin, “About twenty-five to thirty miles north of Asheville. Sure, I know it.” I looked at the General and the others here now, “They have this place called Kostas’. That makes the best damned barbeque!” Then I lowered my voice and admitted, “For a vinegar-based barbecue sauce and not in South Carolina with sweet mustang barbecue sauce. These Suggs and Clubs and Suggs live in Asheville, but maybe a branch of the family?”

The Airman shrugged, “I’ll have to ask.”

I grinned at him, “As you were.”

Peter frowned, “What does that mean?”

We walked over toward General Hammond’s desk more than a few feet away. It had to because of the large monitor screen the near a center table with a computer CPU and a much smaller monitor.

“It’s a military command to return to what you were doing but stopped because we came in,” I said in a soft voice so Airman Suggs couldn’t hear. “He might be distantly related, but he doesn’t have the look of the ones in Asheville.”

“The look? What are you talking about?”

“He’s doesn’t look like a redneck and there no iron bars in front of them,” I explained using my hand to go over an invisible bar. “They mostly petty crimes and were promoted through crime, as in Juvenile Detention to being tried and sentenced as adults. They weren’t that smart for anything complicated and was never violent crimes, but it was theft.” I sighed, “Grandpa always said, if something’s missing, look in their yard first. Nine times out of ten, it was there. They were never violent.” I chuckled, “They even dabbled in car theft. I don’t they knew they were thieves.”

“But they took things,” General stated. “What did they think it was?”

“Borrowing,” I explained. “As in they had a need to rake the yard and grandpa had a very good rake. We weren’t using it, but needed it. So, they borrowed it.” I shrugged with a chuckle, “They didn’t do that very often. Of course, they hadn’t asked to use it and would forget to put it back. There were other things that were theft. There was usually a reason for that, such as their child needed diapers. A need is met. A lot of shoplifting.” I looked at the other desk across the room that was empty. “Where’s General Burke?”

Ed laughed a little, “He’s coming, but he had scheduled a meeting. He promises to make it quick.” Then he leaned into to share something confidentially. “I’m to keep you here if you try to leave.”

“And you worried about me and Ted Dawe,” Peter grumbled, but the look in his eyes told me it in jest. “He never kissed me, David kissed you right in front of me, Mom, Olek...his own wife...”

I explained to Stepan and Vesil how David felt about us first and the kiss told us how far he was coming.

“We’d love to see your underground,” Peter said.

I turned to Ed, “There aren’t many vehicles. How does a mother bring home the groceries?”

“Ah, yes,” Ed nodded. “Some rather enterprising dependants wanted a job to make money.” He shrugged, “They use base vehicles to make home deliveries. Not everyone uses it, but it keeps them busy making deliveries as well as money. They’re working on something for the snow and ice.” He waved at some chairs and went to sit in his chair behind the desk. “How are things? You get back from a honeymoon, you’re brother marries Dr. Schnieder…” He said telling he’d watched the broadcast.

Peter smiled, “It has been a busy month.”

“Did you watch on your desktop or…what?” I asked.

“On the big monitor,” He pointed at the big screen. “One hundred and thirty-two centimeters. David insisted and I know he’ll be watching his Monday Night Football here.”

“That game has too many stops in American Football,” Peter said and pointed at me. “He got me to watch Australian Rule Football. He loves it! Now, THAT’S a sport!”

He wasn’t pushing us to say why we wanted to see him. I was just going to say it. “You have Nelson Carter and Penelope Baldwin in custody.”

Ed nodded, “They are.”

“He’s refused to speak with anyone from here,” I said. “They tell us he doesn’t have to, but recent events...we need to find where to go to stop the Consortium. A female pirate is trying to join them by kidnapping us.”

Ed frowned. “Your brother told David and me. Yuri gave us more detail when you got back.”

Peter glanced at Stepan and Vasil, “Which is why we’re shadowed even in Makarovia.”

“I thought of you and…” I hesitated, uneasy about how he’d take this, “you may know someone who can...compel him talk if necessary.”

Ed smiled, “I see.”

“Surely, you’ve used more extreme measures to make people talk,” Peter reasoned. “There’s, “ he pronounced it Makarovian, “Pentatol Natriyu.”

I looked at Ed and he might have understood it. He nodded and said the name in English. Not like people in the United States did, the accented syllables were in different places. “Sodium Pentathol.”

“I won’t lie.” I said, “If they strap him down and pull his fingernails out one at a time, I wouldn’t object.” Peter’s eyebrows rose at that, so I went on, “I don’t think anyone should die, I won’t hunt until they arm the animals, too and make it a real sport. We don’t need to hunt with a grocery store down the street. I’m no vegan, but I really didn’t care for that, either. But we are what we are and scientists credit it for making us human.

I heard someone say, “No!”

Yes, they do. Look it up. There’s a protein in meat that after one and a half million years made you! Normally, I would never condone violence, but the vermin that make up the Consortium have declared war on us. I will not be a prisoner in my own home! Both here and Boston. You spoke of Carter’s rights, what about ours? This needs to stop. Now!”

Ed smiled even more as he leaned forward on his desk and in a very, nonmilitary way leaned on his elbows. Very casual. He’d come a long way, too. He was NOT a stuffy Brit!

We saw another enter the office. Turning, this rural raised man came in quickly. He was a nice-looking man in his late forties who upon introduction told us he didn’t like gay men. Now, I felt safe calling him a friend. He tried so hard to change that he had changed. I was convinced General David Burke had changed.

His greeting was more personal. There were no worries about anyone else seeing him hug both Peter and me. We weren’t strangers anymore. We weren’t in love, but if maybe we were a little. Who cared? He was happily married to his wife Helen and I was happily married. We were good!

“It’s good to see you two!” David stated. “You had a good time!” That utterance had no question mark at the end as it was a statement of fact he knew. “Everywhere you went had news reports. Italy, Montenegro...all of them!”