'Find him and have him check that out.'
'Is it important?' Randolph asked, and at the same time Carter asked, 'Is it radiation, boss?'
'It's nothing to worry about,' Big Jim said. 'As Junior would say, he's just trying to freak me out. I'm sure of it. But check on that Geiger counter. If we do have one - and it still works - bring it to me.'
'Okay,' Randolph said, looking frightened.
Big Jim wished now that he'd let the call go to voice mail after all. Or kept his mouth shut. Searles was apt to blab about this, start a rumor. Heck, Randolph was apt to. And it was probably nothing, just that brass-hat cotton-picker trying to spoil a good day. The most important day of his life, maybe.
Freddy Denton, at least, had kept what mind he had on the issue at hand. 'What time do you want us to hit the radio station, Mr Rennie?'
Big Jim mentally reran what he knew about the Visitors Day schedule, then smiled. It was a genuine smile, wreathing his slightly greasy chops with good cheer and revealing his tiny teeth. 'Twelve o'clock. Everybody will be schmoozing out on highway 119 by then and the rest of the town will be empty. So you go in and take out those cotton-pickers sitting on our propane at high noon, just like in one of those old Western movies.'
6
At quarter past eleven on that Thursday morning, the Sweetbriar Rose van went trundling south along Route 119. Tomorrow the highway would be clogged with cars and stinking of exhaust, but today it was eerily deserted. Sitting behind the wheel was Rose herself. Ernie Calvert was in the passenger bucket. Norrie sat between them on the engine housing, clutching her skateboard, which was covered with stickers bearing the logos of long-gone punk bands like Stalag 17 and the Dead Milkmen.
'The air smells so bad,' Norrie said.
'It's the Prestile, honey,' Rose said. 'It's turned into a big old stinky marsh where it used to run into Motton.' She knew it was more than just the smell of the dying river, but didn't say so. They had to breathe, so there was no point in worrying about what they might be breathing in. 'Have you talked to your mother?'
'Yeah,' Norrie said glumly. 'She'll come, but she's not crazy about the idea.'
'Will she bring whatever groceries she has, when it's time?'
'Yes. In the trunk of our car.'What Norrie didn't add was that Joanie Calvert would load in her booze supply first; food supplies would play second fiddle to that. 'What about the radiation, Rose? We can't plaster every car that goes up there with lead roll.'
'If people only go once or twice, they should be okay' Rose had confirmed this for herself, on the Internet. She had also discovered that safety when it came to radiation depended on the strength of the rays, but saw no sense in worrying them about things they couldn't control. 'The important thing is to limit exposure... and Joe says the belt isn't wide.'
'Joey's mom won't want to come,' Norrie said.
Rose sighed. This she knew. Visitors Day was a mixed blessing. It might cover their retreat, but those with relatives on the other side would want to see them. Maybe McClatchey will lose the lottery, she thought.
Up ahead was Jim Rennie's Used Cars, with its big sign YOU'LL LUVTHE FEELIN'WHEN BIG JIM IS DEALIN'! A$K U$ 4 CREDIT!
'Remember - ' Ernie began.
'I know,' Rose said.'If someone's there, just turn around in front and head back to town.'
But at Rennie's all the RESERVED FOR. EMPLOYEE slots were empty, the showroom was deserted, and there was a whiteboard bearing the message CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE hanging on the main door. Rose drove around back in a hurry. Out here were ranks of cars and trucks with signs in the windows bearing prices and slogans like GREAT VALUE and CLEAN AS A WHISTLE and HEY LOOK ME OVER (with the Os turned into sexy long-lashed girl-eyes). These were the battered workhorses in Big Jim's stable, nothing like the snazzy Detroit and German thoroughbreds out front. At the far end of the lot, ranked against the chainlink fence separating Big Jim's property from a trash-littered patch of second-growth woods, was a line of phone company vans, some still bearing AT&T logos.
'Rose,' Ernie said, reaching behind his seat. He brought out a long thin strip of metal.
'That's a slim jim,' Rose said, amused in spite of her nerves. 'Why would you have a slim jim, Ernie?:
'From when I was still working at Food City.You'd be surprised how many people lock their keys in their cars.'
'How will you get it started, Grampa?' Norrie asked.
Ernie smiled feebly. 'I'll figure somethin out. Stop here, Rose.'