The Coming Night - Cover

The Coming Night

Copyright© 2007 by Dr. T. D'Manne

Chapter 8

The table was fully twenty feet from end to end, and six wide. The wood, a rich burnished red, was marred by gouges, burns, and by knife blades long ago lost or rusted away. Hand crafted by muslim slaves in the tenth century, it was a rallying point for the sixteen men who gathered around it in the twenty-first floor offices of Federated Energy Resources.

Thimble-sized cups fronted each of the dark complected men, and four earthen jugs steamed silently at intervals on the table's handsome face. Though ash trays were present, none of the quiet group were smoking as each in turn lifted their demitasse and sipped of the muddy brew within.

The procession continued in silence. As the last replaced his celadon cup on the delicate saucer before him, the first gently forced a small gold key into a hidden recess in the table top. Each of the fifteen others followed suit. When the last had inserted his, the first slowly twisted the exposed haft one-quarter turn left. Again the others mimicked him. Each in their own turn twisting a key, and releasing it.

Nothing happened for thirty-seven minutes and eighteen seconds after the last key was removed. The next action was taken by the International News Association in Tel Aviv. A news bulletin was relayed from their offices to a geo-stationary satellite more than twenty-five thousand miles away. One short word was a trigger that caused the satellite to emit a special code to several of its brothers. This code, in its turn, caused a special multi-frequency pulse to blanket the earth with the same short word. Jihad.

The Fool's Day War had begun.


"Breaker, Broke for the south bound fourwheeler headed for glory at ninety to nuthin. You best back off your motor friend, cause there bees bears ahead gone south."

Josh smiled and glanced down at his speedometer which was registering 30 miles an hour above the legal limit, eased off of the accelerator, and keyed his Citizen's Band Transceiver.

"You got the Paladin in this here four-wheeler. I shore 'preciate the break big brother cause I sure enough would've been feeding them bears. Who we got on the other end friend?"

"Paladin. You got Little Speeder in the front, and my better half, Rangy Lil, in the behind. How far you headed and what's your hurry feller?"

"Speeder, I be headed down to the S'Port City to do some shoppin, and then pick up my better half at the aero port. She and the little one's been 10-7 over the water for more than four weeks now and I'm a hungerin', if ya know what I mean." Josh smiled as he did every time he got into a ' ratchet jaw session ' on the 'radidio.' He wondered anew what his mother would have to say, could her English teacher's ears gain a hint of his jabberwockied speech.

"Gus, My Dear. The solderin' job you did on my radio just died, again. I told you I needed a tape deck, but you said 'No. You've got a good radio, or you will as soon as I finish solderin' this lead to this plug. ' A good radio my hind freakin' foot. The damn thing has been in and out more than you have in the last year, and I am tired of it. Do you hear me? Tired of it and damn good and tired of you tryin ta fix the son-of-a-bitch." A muffled crash was heard on the speaker." Did you hear that 'Little Speeder'? That was my tire billy smashin' the bastard just like it is going to smash your happy if you even think about tryin ta talk me out of the goddamn tape deck again. Do ya hear me darling.".

The sarcasm coming through the radio was thick as a peasouper, without difficulty Josh could visualize the cringe pushing Gus back further into his seat." Aw, Judy, Honey bear, Hush up will ya. We're only an hour outta Shreveport, and we can jaw with the Paladin til we can stop there and git it fixed right."

"Maybe you didn't hear me Sweet Pea. The radio has bit the big one. All the king's horse's and all the king's men couldn't fix the bastard now. We will carry on a conversation with ' The Paladin ' until we get to Shreveport, and when we get to Shreveport I will stop, you will stop, and you will buy me a cassette deck and pay to have it installed. I am tired of having my music interrupted. It is almost impossible to find good music on the tubes. It took me ten minutes of fiddlin to get something worth listening to today and then the radio blew out in the middle of a Mozart Concerto. Dear, you know how much I love Mozart. Don't you numb nuts. "

"OUCH, OK YOU WIN. I GIVE UP. I SURRENDER. Judy, I am unbelievably sorry. Yes. I do know how much you love Mozart, Chopin, and Bach. I will, without fail supply you with a tape deck when we get to Shreveport, and I will purchase three tapes for you as well. I am sorry my dear. But after those three tapes you will buy your own, and you will also take care of the upkeep on the damn thing. OK?"

"Installation?"

"Yeah." Gus chuckled back." Installation. "

Josh could not hold back the laughter as he let his mind wander to the images created by their conversation, and the possibilities of a female trucker, one of the 'New Cowgirls' preferring Mozart to the steel guitars of Willie, Waylon and the Boys.

The Ta-Dump of his tires onto the Sulfur River Bridge, brought Josh's mind back to the road, but drew his eyes to the pilings of the old rail bridge framed in the passenger's glass. His thoughts went back to the years the half mile distant bridge had been the only one across the river. To the time when to travel by train, was to travel swiftly and with class. He felt again he had been born a century too late. The era he belonged in was the same that spawned the likes of Cullen Baker, J.W. Hardin, and the Texas Rangers.

The tire's song changed key as they dropped from concrete to again grip the asphalt of the highway. Josh unconsciously scanned the built up road bed and the cacophony of spring forcing the grays and browns from the Sulphur River Bottoms. Though it was warm for the first day of April, the breeze coursing through the open window eased the build up of heat under his padded jacket. The heat was a welcome change from the incredible winter just past. The temperature had dropped below zero four times in January and the first snow fall of the new year had remained on the ground for the entire month. On Valentine's Day the lengthy cold spell had snapped as the mercury soared to a torrid forty-three degrees, only to drop back into the middle teens along with eleven more inches of snow.

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